EARTH TRIUMPHANT THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO DALLAS ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO.. LIMITED LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TORONTO EARTH TRIUMPHANT And Other Tales In Verse BY CONRAD AIKEN gorfe THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1914 COPYRIGHT, 1914 BY THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY COPYRIGHT, 1914 BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Set up and electrotyped. Published Sept., 1914 To My Wife. Whatever loveliness is in this music, Whatever yearning after lovely things, Whatever crying after stars, in darkness. Whatever beating of impeded wings: Whatever climbing of the rose to sunlight, Sweet-hearted laugh from the dark blind sod: Whatever madness of the sea for moonlight, Whatever yearning of the good to God: All that is beautiful, and all that looks on beauty With eyes filled with fire, like a lover s eyes: All of this is yours; you gave it to me, sun light! All these stars are yours; you gave them to me, skies! v 331019 FOREWORD. Not to disarm criticism, but out of justice to myself, I feel compelled to say here, in view of the fact that I am certain to be called an imitator of Masefield, that before I had ever heard of Masefield I was experi menting with narrative poems of modern daily life. In one case I had even employed the octosyllabic couplet (used so success fully in "The Everlasting Mercy") to tell the love-story of an ordinary clerk. It will be obvious, of course, that Mase field has influenced me. I found in him many valuable hints toward a method for the work I wanted to do. If with some of his method I unconsciously picked up also some of his mannerisms, that was to be ex pected, and I can only hope that these echoes vii v iii FOREWORD are neither very important nor many. And I believe firmly that my substance and my philosophy, whatever their merits, and de spite superficial resemblances, are entirely my own, and entirely different from those of Masefield. The narrative poems in this book were written a considerable time after my read ing of "The Everlasting Mercy" and "The Widow in the Bye Street." In the interim I had done work more experimental in quality and more directly reminiscent. In writing "Youth," "Earth Triumphant," and "Ro mance," however, I made a deliberate at tempt to excise all echoes, and to leave as a basis for dreaded comparisons only the facts that these poems, like Masefield s, are nar rative, and are written in certain Chaucerian forms. CONTENTS PAGE EARTH TRIUMPHANT 1 YOUTH 69 ROMANCE . . 132 EARTH TEDIUM . . 167 INNOCENCE 183 SOPHISTICATION 185 LAUGHTER 196 YOUTH IMPERTURBABLE 203 YOUTH PENETRANT 207 PARASITICS: TO CERTAIN POETS . . . 210 DILEMMA . 216 EARTH TRIUMPHANT EARTH TRIUMPHANT THE warm sun covers earth again, And the ivy leaves flash bright with rain, They sparkle on the garden wall, Drops, falling, sparkle as they fall; And there among the dark leaves clings, Scattering rain-drops with his wings, A thrush, who having drunk of rain Bubbles to sun a mirthful strain. The trees all shake in youthful green, The grasses shimmer cool and clean, The meadow-brook sings sweet in flowing, Dreamless of whither it be going, And of all living things this day Who shine with laughter in this May, Not one, not one who can remember The bitter blowings of December, The boughs that creaked, the sod that froze, 1 2 EARTH TRIUMPHANT The cold stars staring at cold snows. Earth, it were a pity then, Could you not give this grace to men, Could you not heal them of their sorrow, Forgetting yesterday, to-morrow, To live for always in to-day, ^As these dumb happy things in May! To sing the blessedness of sun Nor sadden when its shine be done, But only wait like these, and dream, Or sleep, till April s rainy gleam, Through winter s times of snow and sleet, When thickly round the forest s feet Lie dead leaves, like old memories dead, Dead griefs, and happinesses sped. . . . Earth it were a pity then, Could you not give this grace to men, And make them from their sorrows rise Like green things new beneath new skies! Yet here is given the tale of one Who took this healing of the sun, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 3 And he, though true to earth, her child, Has been by tongues of men reviled. Through all his youth an anchorite He peered at earth by candle-light, And on a lamp-lit page would read Of bygone time and ancient deed, Closing the windows of his room Lest modern sun should spoil his gloom Or scare away his magic things, His faerie visions, holy rings, And tales in curious language writ, Strange-charactered, by monkish wit; And he had always through his youth Gone devious sombre ways for truth, Seeking for truth in star and moon Rather than in the ruddy sun; Walking abroad in night and mist, Haply to catch the ghosts at tryst, With elfin verses in his head And words too holy to be said. 4 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Ere his own life was yet begun He had exhausted one by one Each creed, each weird philosophy, And reached at last satiety: Till, wearied much of rhyming words That sought to mimic song of birds, He put his books upon their shelf And went to hear the birds himself, Threw up his windows, let in sun, And called philosophising done. The sunshine on pale eyes was sweet, The grass was soft beneath his feet; Deeply he drank the blue of skies, And touching earth grew subtly wise, Wiser than he had been before When he beneath his lamp would pore Over illumined manuscript, When frequently his fine pen dipt To quill slow delicate characters Upon the margin of a verse. EARTH TRIUMPHANT 5 Beneath his window lilacs grew, Among his books their perfume blew, And musing by the window there He watched them shake their lovely hair, And watched a flock of sparrows sit Among the leaves to dart and twit, Filling the bush with bickerings And shaking leaves with nervous wings. He walked abroad in country lanes Through summer winds, through autumn rains, Loving the wind that laughed so wild, Till he too brimmed with mirth, a child, And sang out loud, surprised to hear His own dead voice rise trembling clear Among the sumach, sere and red, With dead leaves loud beneath his tread. And when he walked in city places He looked with love on human faces, And talked with those who sat by him In the subway, swaying dim, 6 EARTH TRIUMPHANT And smilingly with children spoke And yearned, although too shy, to stroke Their soft cheeks and their shining hair, Or tell them stories strange and rare. At night he sat in restaurants, In gay bohemian poets haunts, Where poets came with languid locks, And chorus-girls in gaudy frocks, Where eyes were quick and wine was flowing And love was made and money going, While one man with a violin Made quavering music, sweet and thin ; And after dinner he might walk In brightly lighted streets, to talk With girls whose mouths were very red, Who held their bodies but as bread, As broken bread, not more divine, And no more precious blood than wine. He sometimes thought, these might be his Through all the night with ecstasies, And he might stroke the subtle flesh, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 7 Snared in an exquisite red mesh, And hear the clock tick, all night through, Alone there in the night, they two. Warmly he shivered, thinking this, His body warmed with creeping bliss; But somehow, though he vaguely meant, The instinct failed, he never went; Content instead, in front-row seat, To watch the intricate flash of feet Of well-trained chorus-girls, who came In lusty dance, to fill with shame And ecstasy, mingling sweet! His eyes, that watched the moving feet, The legs of lustrous crimson silk, White petticoats, skin white as milk; While through his ears, a blandishment, The implorings of the music went, Persuasive horn, queer violin, Dissolving him in bliss of sin ... Out of such febrile air he rose To walk home through the slanting snows, 8 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Breathing deep the cold night air To make his body clean and fair; Loving the flakes that touched, to melt, His stubble cheek, so cool they felt, And loving storm and loving wind, They purged his body that had sinned: Not sinned, perhaps but from his blood They purged away this darker mood, To leave his spirit cold and white And shining, like a winter s night . . . But most of all, when night was done, He loved the ruddy morning sun, Who shone so warm on his pale face; Touched every wire and twig with grace, And flamed on every icicle Till drops of fire from each one fell ! O every day this gave him joy, Brimmed him with music, like a boy. So for a flight of magic days In these ways and in other ways EARTH TRIUMPHANT 9 The reawakened life in him Woke tunings intricate with whim, Slow, subtle sequences of tone, Bland horns, a drawling of trombone, A tentative, perplexing din; Whence softly rose a violin To sing a moving phrase, and then Was lost in jargonings again . . . From this confusion, tangling sweet, It needed but a single beat Swiftly to draw and lead in one Those subtle sequences of tone, Out of the deeps each voice to bring In slow grave symphony to sing, Bidding it quicken, bidding it rise, Or steadfast shine, like stars in skies, Or cry out against all that is To break its heart with ecstasies. . . The lamp put lustre in her hair, Soft reds and grfcens were mingled there, 10 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Her eyes were fathomlessly dark Save that remote in each a spark He saw there, like a flying star In vast voids where no others are; Now shining fully like a moon, Now scattering showers of splendor down, Or dwindling off remote in space Till scarcely yearning eyes could trace; And he would almost hold his breath Like one who peers, at gates of death, Through infinite dark silences, Where not a sound or presence is ... Waiting, waiting, for his breath To come up shining through that death . . . And all the while upon her knee Her small hand lay so quietly, As though it did not know she led His soul so far among the dead; Stroking, with a slow caress, The soft knee and the silky dress, The fingers hiding soft between EARTH TRIUMPHANT H The lustrous little folds of green ; Or curling upward, shy and pale, To touch a gleaming finger-nail. Somehow, his stupid voice went on, It must go on, in even tone; Measuring careful syllables While all his blood was deaf with bells; And all his pulses hurried on, Pattering towards a unison, Like rain-drops on a window-pane Making a single hum of rain. Yet even talking he could note Her smooth round neck, her mellow throat, And all the soft shine in her face, And all her body s breathing grace; And then came tumult in his hands, They longed to fly like burning brands, Madly to whirl about and shatter This idiotic endless chatter, Go straight towards her, through it all, Be plunged as in a waterfall, 12 EARTH TRIUMPHANT And bring her coolness to his mouth, All of her coolness for his drouth; To slake his mouth and eyelids burning, To sate with cool snows all his yearning, To fill his spirit with her snow, Have all her coolness in his glow. Of her he had imperious need, Without her, broken, he would bleed, Forever languish incomplete, A wingless thing, with wounded feet. . . Aloof and strange the clock struck ten, And whirred. She hoped he d come again. Perhaps she d walk with him some day? In wind and rain! Or see a play? And then the sweet night swallowed him, He floated, giddily; and dim In unperfected memory yet He could not capture, nor forget, An earth-sweet face, which like the spring Made all his pulses glow and sing. EARTH TRIUMPHANT 13 With her, fulfilment came, it seemed: She was the beauty he had dreamed. All beauty he had ever loved Intensely in this woman moved, And all his dead youth seemed to stir Whenever he had glimpse of her: The sunrise seen from long lost heights, Forgotten valleys filled with lights, The stars which he had loved when young, The songs to him in childhood sung; And flowers, so near and friendly then, Seemed close and intimate again, Just as they were when once he lay In soft grass on a summer s day, With daisy s petals by his cheek So living that they seemed to speak, And little clover, green and white, Never so fragrant as at night; While humming-birds with mazy wing Made the trumpet-flowers swing, And mulberries fell pattering down, 14 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Whereto the ants came, black or brown, He watched them by his small hand pass In the green forests of the grass. . . Now all these things seemed close as then; Close were the faces, too, of men, He noted lines that had escaped His eyes before, and how were shaped The lips, the nostrils, or the chin, And if their hands were white and thin, And all the movement that s in eyes, And all the light that in them lies. The very texture of the stone, Beneath his feet, to him was known. The leaves upon the lilac-tree, So smooth, in essence were as she; The wind that blew upon his face, Shaking trees, had stolen her grace, Some secret of her in it moved, And lo, this wind he touched and loved, Breathed deeply of this vagrant air And welcomed it among his hair. EARTH TRIUMPHANT 15 He would have dallied if he could A long while with this joyous mood, To muse, to talk of her, content, While days and nights like music went: Content in light of her to pass His days, as, with the sunlight, grass. For all the things of earth now r seemed Sweet as sweet fa^es that are dreamed, And all with an inward glory bright Which reached in her a perfect light. . . But something, some dim restlessness, Of which he scarce had consciousness, The subtle impulse that in spring Makes daisies grow and thrushes sing, Left him discontent with this, To talk of her, forego her kiss. And so he lay awake long hours, Traced on the wall the patterned flowers, And while the clock ticked, cold and slow, Carefully backward would he go In hushed mind over memories of her 16 EARTH TRIUMPHANT To ask if she were friend or lover: Sifting her lightest glance with eyes So frightened they could not be wise, Weighing the lightest word she d said With held breath, heart that slowed with dread. What meant these things? He did not know. She must love one who loved her so! And when at times he so construed Some subtle tone of hers, or mood, Then straightway flushed his brow with heat, Loudly began his heart to beat, Tumultuous all his pulses sang, With little bells his temples rang; And moist with fever he would rise To stand at window, stare at skies, While love seemed sudden to fill his throat And all his room to rock and float. . . Until across the sleeping town Came elfin bell-notes coldly down, Like voices falling faint and far EARTH TRIUMPHANT 17 From frozen moon or haunted star, And a white horror slid between This lover and his earthly queen ; Even as frightened spirits run When cock-crow shrills at reddening sun. . . They climbed a wild hill, green with copse; Giddily in the birch-tree tops The red-winged blackbirds widely swayed Joyful in sunshine, unafraid, Wonderful sky-things, balancing So high, with hardly a stir of wing. Beneath the hill a plain was spread, In dusty green, with houses red, And one small pond which towards the sky Stared with a wide blue open eye. Beyond all these the city lay, Smoky, with roofs of serried grey, And smoky trees, and smoky grass, And one high dome that blazed like brass : And chimneys tall and black, wherethrough 18 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Glittered beyond the sea s wet blue, wonderful wild blue, drawn so fine In that far clear horizon line! On this she looked with blowing hair, By wind and sun made trebly fair; So wonderful that he was weak, His voice broke tremor when he would speak. They sat and talked, of little things; For him, with perilous balancings, Difficult breath and gasping words, Words as fleeting and shy as birds. She told his fortune, took his hand Ingenuously, and deeply scanned Across the palm the netting fine, Intricate etchings of white line ; Puckered her puzzled brow, and frowned, Before she told him what she found: If you should ever love, have fear! Near death is written plainly here, For her or you I cannot say ; Else, why should this line break this way? EARTH TRIUMPHANT 19 She laughed. A black cloud drenched the sun And suddenly all the earth grew dun. . . They rose, returning. As they went Vaguely, a cold presentiment Slid snake-like through his mood of mirth; And when the sun reconquered earth Still through their laughter he could hear If you should ever love, have fear ! To-night or next night should it be? This phrase he mused incessantly; Feeling that all life came to urge This action; seeming to converge With all the weight of earth and sky And sun and stars and times gone by, Until it was no longer he But life, in all infinity, That moved resistless to this aim; Whatever end, not his the blame. . . Meanwhile the rain-drops cooled his face, 20 EARTH TRIUMPHANT ,-- He walked on with a quickened pace, The wind shook trees and made them cry, They tossed against a rapid sky, Showing pale undersides of leaf, Swishing and writhing, bacchic grief. Omens! This violence and this dark Troubled his soul and left a mark; With lowered face he went his way, Doubt shook him, all his mood was grey. The door-bell rung, he stood in rain, In misery of doubt and pain; Yet through an arc-light s fitful gloom He saw forsythia trees in bloom, Glowing and golden in the night, So living and so filled with light. . . These lit his heart. A moment s space, He scarce had time to dream her face, And the door opened, it was she, Far lovelier than a dream could be; He heard her speaking, touched her hand, Briefly across her dark eyes scanned, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 21 Feeling a soft sense, sweet and warm, Of being alone with her in storm; Then they with shy aloofness moved, Lest each might think the other loved, To sit and talk. . . While on the pane Came gusty patterings of rain, And they could hear the trees outside That swished against the wind, and cried, In bacchie frenzy, anguished bliss, Against a stormy lover s kiss. The clock upon the mantelpiece Ticked on, it would not ever cease, But in the intervals of quiet, In momentary lull of riot, Delicate, between word and word, The little beat of it was heard; Measuring life that flowed away, The blood s alternate night and day, And urging on, still urging on, To what? What final dusk or dawn? And suddenly now it seemed a part 22 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Of this vast tide that bore his heart Dizzily to some dizzy height, A part of all this rushing flight, Its index of approaching time When spent soul need no more to climb, But blasted by a blazing sky Must be transfigured or must die. A breathlessness came over him, His hands upon his knee seemed dim, And nebulous his body seemed ; And with queer loudness, as if dreamed, His voice went on, in empty chatter Of weighty things that did not matter. A breathlessness, a breathlessness, Rushing him on, with no redress, No pause, no pity, though he strove And cried out to the tide that drove His helpless spirit through this dark. Wherein remotely shone a spark; And all this darkness seemed to be Her dark eyes vast infinity, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 23 Infinity of fear and doubt Whence there was never coming out, And no salvation, save he came Through space and time to that far flame Which when she smiled came up to him, flaking his body reel and swim. The lamp put lustre in her hair, Gleamed upon arms and shoulders bare; One arm across a cushion lay, So white, it made his spirit pray, And in his hands a yearning came To stroke that flesh as smooth as flame. More than a little moment s space He dared not look upon her face, For swift her deep eyes drew him down To darknesses where he would drown ; And yet they called him back again, To look away from them was pain, He felt their wonder taking him And felt the world slip backward dim, Her power was a magic one, 24 EARTH TRIUMPHANT He went as white mist goes to sun. Towards her mouth his spirit went As for a single kiss twere meant, Then darkness ever; yet his brain Even in midst of all this pain Somehow made shift to capture words, Setting them free like frightened birds That flashed all ways with startled winging, Scattered, yet all in sunlight singing, Singing the one thing, earthly bliss, Half joy, half terror, before the kiss. . . And after, when he d kissed her eyes, For these wild words they deemed him wise, Saying, that they (0 frightened wing!) Had worked the wonder of this thing; So wonderful, they sat quite still While rain dripped at the window-sill, Quiet as trees are, when the hour Has come to them that gives them flower ; Quiet and shy as gentle earth In dusk before the sun brings mirth; EARTH TRIUMPHANT 25 Quiet as God, when he had made These stars, and, seeing, was half afraid. And they could hear the trees outside That swished against the wind, and cried, In maenad fury, anguished bliss, Against a stormy lover s kiss; And felt a soft sense, sweet and warm, Of being alone, secure, in storm, Too drunk with loveliness to speak, Just touching lips, or brow, or cheek, While through dark eyes their spirits went On an eternal mission sent, Quietly, holily, as they move Who fear to break the hush of love. The springtime of his life was this : All earth seemed sweet to love and kiss, The bark of trees, the blades of grass Whereover softly he would pass, The very bricks beneath his feet Seemed, with kinship to her, sweet; 26 EARTH TRIUMPHANT And he would stroke with lover s hand All smooth things, seemed to understand At last their beauty and their place, Each seemed to lift a gentle face . And all the universe stood still While out of love he drank his fill; The roses blossomed for his sake ; For him from dark the sun would break, The thrush sang on the lilac spray, For him the night succeeded day ; His love for her, earth s love of sun, Seemed mingling wonderfully in one. . . And in this symphony of flame, Like a dream his marriage came, A minor voice, a silver laughter Of little horns; and then rose after The violins in rapid shine, Intricate, myriad-voiced, divine, Shimmering, and the music rose To all the glory music knows, Magniloquent, a cosmic thing, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 27 As though the universe should sing. She was his life! If she should die, Motionless would his body lie, They breathed one single song of breath, One life, and they die one death. . . And if her face s shine went dim That instant would it fade in him, And all the mirth in them be dead And all the light in them be shed: wistfully they talked of this, Yet lost it in a trembling kiss. . . So, pleasant hours and pleasant days Went past them in a giddy maze, And holding love they held the key, He thought, to immortality. . . And chancing shortly after then To fall in with old friends again, Who bore him off perforce to see The latest musical comedy, To sink back in a front-row seat And watch the intricate flash of feet 28 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Of well-trained chorus-girls, who came To give him ecstasy and shame, With legs of lustrous saffron silk, White frills, and skin as white as milk, With sexual laughter, nods and becks, Mechanical display of sex, While through his ears, a blandishment, The implorings of the music went: Suddenly, all this powdered lust Had filled him with a sad disgust, He looked on meretricious clothing And straightway he was sick with loathing; And while his friends perspired with bliss, At thinking of a chorine s kiss, Lo, beauty like a lightning came To strike this ugliness with flame. . . The man, he mused, who once knows love No baser lust can ever move; No, and no human face could lure His heart again. . . His earth was sure. EARTH TRIUMPHANT 29 Earth s irony ! Though sure it seemed, Lo, all its sureness was but dreamed. Through brightest noon a darkness runs. Night whelms down the hugest suns. Death lodges him in sweetest flower, And poison makes of sweetest hour. His wife di^d sharp at ten o clock, That night. . . Yet time had felt no shock, Nor paused, but still this clock went on Which told them when her soul had gone. She lay outstretched in candle-gloom, Save that, no whit was changed her room: For still the tall glass glimmered there Where night and day she did her hair, And over a chair-back still hung down Her soft pink satin dressing-gown. And yet a quietness was there Which seemed the breathing of despair; And though the chamber showed no change, Yet, there was something still and strange. 30 EARTH TRIUMPHANT She lay outstretched, in candle-light; So she would lie, nor stir, all night, Not move one finger, no, nor seek A single thing, nor try to speak. *~ He could not understand this thing. Nothing, to which his mind might cling! And never moving, by her side, He sat and held her hand and cried, And stroked her arms, so pale they were, And tried to make her eyelids stir By touching with his finger-tips, Or brushing gently w r ith his lips, Or breathing on them. . . Yet her sleep Had covered her so cold and deep, That though a long, long while he gazed, Hoping to see her eyelids raised, Quite close, until he touched her cheek; And though at intervals he d speak, Though all her little names were said, Still she lay silent, like one dead. . . At times, his grief was passionate EARTH TRIUMPHANT 31 And he cried out, importunate ; And he would raise her from the bed Hold in his arms her languid head, And beg her to be kind to him, While tears came and his eyes were dim; And her sweet face, sweet piercingly, He kissed and kissed, half angrily; And panic madness took him, then, Thinking, not many times again He d kiss her face, a little while; A last time he had seen her smile, Only this morning, when they walked Out in the garden, laughed and talked, While she with pruning-scissors went, Over her roses softly bent, And clipped dead leaves. . . Have pity, God! She would be hidden under sod, Cramped in a dark and narrow place With all that dirt above her face, And never see the sun, the sky, 32 EARTH TRIUMPHANT But there in soundless darkness lie With not a soul to talk to her While year by year she could not stir, While rain came trickling downward cold To damp her hair, and stain with mold Her gentle face, her white shut eyes, Her brow so .beautiful and wise, ? Alone, and he would never see This face again, not even he, He, for whom it meant so much, Who shook with anguish but to touch. So, panic-struck he kissed her cheek Imploring her once more to speak, Only one little word to say Before they hurried her away; He would not let them! He would keep Inviolate her quiet sleep, Keep her in her own room here, With shutters down, year after year, Till some mysterious dawn would break And she would wake, and she would wake! EARTH TRIUMPHANT 33 They could not hide his love away! But he would see her day by day, Still have his lover by his side Pretending that she had not . . . died, And leave her little things all there As she had left them ; on her chair Her dressing-gown where she had thrown, She d need it when her sleep was flown. It would not be so hard, if he Could always steal in quietly And have her face to look at there, And touch the softness of her hair; But if they hid her face from him, His memory would fade and dim Till he could scarce remember her, Or cruel memory would err, And there would be to touch and see Nothing of all her sanctity, Never upon this earth again; God have pity on this pain! 34 EARTH TRIUMPHANT And then the ballet dancers came Before his mind, and utter shame Shook him with sobs that he should be In such a sordidness, while she Caught at her breath, and cried for him To see him ere her eyes went dim. He told her he had come ; but she Lay there so white, so silently; She must see! and in last despair, To find if they might still be there, He raised her eyelids, small and white, And saw the brown eyes void of light, Unseeing, rigid, glazing fast; And then he knew the truth at last; And never moving, by her side, He sat and held her hand and cried, Yearning to kiss her, yet afraid Of pain, if she no motion made, At finding out her death anew; And yet he kissed her, all night through. EARTH TRIUMPHANT 35 When he first ventured out, the earth Seemed strange to him, and stripped of mirth, A vast, a grey, an empty place, Like a huge body without a face; Or like a face that had no eyes, Smooth flesh insensible to skies. No soul in it! and he could feel A horror, nausea made him reel. He hated all these fleshly trees Who sucked from death their ecstasies; The soulless grass he hated too ; For with a million mouths it drew Its fleshly substance from decay, Its greenness was all made of grey. The sun sprawled soulless in the street. And so he turned with giddy feet From this drear world, all empty now, Over his musty desk to bow, Dull-eyed to take down many a book, To open them with absent look, 36 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Swallow a scrannel paragraph And wretchedly, thereat, to laugh. A loneliness, a loneliness, An absence of all loveliness, Like misty rain began to fall Upon his heart; and very small Through silent spaces, all alone, Without the light of star or moon, He travelled, and looked everywhere As though a thing were hidden there. . . To go where he, with her, had been, To see the houses she had seen, The streets she walked in, and had made Her own, in sun or rain or shade: This anguished him; in such a street He half believed that he might meet, XLast year it often happened so, Her coming, musingly and slow, So soft in white, her dark eyes shining, Pink roses on her straw hat twining; EARTH TRIUMPHANT 37 She might come, sudden, round this turn ! And thinking this his heart would yearn, And all his wretehed pulses beat ; Until he saw the empty street, The sidewalk stretching far away, And nought else, save the light of day, Or strangers, and the walls of stone Which she had somehow made her own. And many days had come and gone Before one morning, just at dawn, After a long and sleepless night He looked out in the misty light And saw her garden, tempest-blown, Littered with dead leaves. . . Weeds had grown Profusely in her favorite bed, Rose petals on the loam were shed; And seeing it neglected so, This thing she loved. . . If she should know! She must know! And remorse was his, 38 EARTH TRIUMPHANT He broke the garden s sanctities, Thinking of that last morning there And how the sunshine glossed her hair, And how these petals, strewn in sun, Were roses she had smiled upon, Or touched . . . and how she loved them an, And grieved, if one of them should fall. These roses that were fully blown To her as little buds were known, Out of their hearts a fragrance came Of her, and he was sick with shame That all these days he should have left Her in the garden here, bereft! And often he would turn to see If there behind him she might be, So close she seemed; but all was bare, A wind, a perfume in the air, And that was all. Yet when at last Into the house he slowly passed, His heart wrenched out of him, to go EARTH TRIUMPHANT 39 Among the roses she loved so. And when her robin ran through dew, And so precisely as she knew Sang out his early morning strain, He thought he could not bear the pain. A loneliness, a loneliness, An absence of all loveliness, Came down upon his heart like rain, Insistent, gentle fall of pain, With not a pause, and not a let, No chance was given to forget; But unresisting, as the leaf Bends under rain, so he in grief, And always would this rain have kept To darken him, and would have wept Had sun come wounding at his eyes, The brazen laugh of brazen skies. . . And faithlessness it would have been, It would have seemed the blackest sin, To let this grief be blown away 40 EARTH TRIUMPHANT By the windy light of day; One way there was and one way only Of truth to her: in being lonely; In yearning for her day and night; In feeling her as loss of light; As silence coming coldly round, As loss of music, loss of sound; Though still vague echo in the air Told that song was lately there. . . And all day long from room to room He wandered in the shuttered gloom, Touching curtains, touching walls, Startled at his own footfalls; Or stood so still he d hear the chime Of clocks upstairs, yet feared to climb Those stairs, lest having gone he d find Only the hush she d left behind. Her clock! and sudden anguish came At thinking of the bitter shame If he had let it stop, unwound; Yet it was going still, he found, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 41 Ticking on her mantelpiece; He would not let it ever cease ; For all its impulse came from her, Without her hands it would not stir, But she had wound it, patiently, The very day, perhaps, that she . . . He took the key with dim eyes then And seemed to touch her hand again; God if for a second s space She d come and let him see her face, While she was standing there that day Musing, gazing far away, And with slow hand revolved this key! . . And then he realized that he Was in her room, and then he cried, For all was just as when she died; Over a chair-back hanging down Her soft pink satin dressing-gown; Drawn curtains, luminous with sun, Two candles into sockets run; And still untouched upon her bed 42 EARTH TRIUMPHANT The pillow, hollowed by her head. And this he stroked with finger-tips And touched with never-sated lips; Into this pillow and this sheet Had passed her body s little heat, And thence upon the air had gone As darkness goes out upon dawn. And then a while, a spirit dazed, On all her little things he gazed, Saw in the closet hanging there Soft dresses that she used to wear, Her hats, her ribbons, laces laid In rows, some by her own hands made. . . No one would ever change this room, Forever would it stay in gloom, Untouched . . . and yet, since she liked sun, Over the floor he let it run, A singing, dancing flood of light, Making the hazy ceiling bright, And making all the room so gay That he was hurt, and crept away, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 43 Resolving not to come there more. He stood a space: then locked the door, And took the key with him, and went Downstairs again to banishment. A loneliness, a loneliness, An absence of all loveliness, It came like mingled snow and rain, Softly, and yet a steady pain, And mutely like the winter earth In dumb forgetfulness of mirth His heart lay still; and did not move, So crushed with unforgotten love. It was a stab of pain to go To places that she did not know, See houses she had never seen In cities where she d never been; And though it was a pang to pass Through streets she loved, or over grass Whereon together they had strayed, Yet he preferred this pang, afraid 44 EARTH TRIUMPHANT To steal through streets that nothing kept Of her who now forever slept. And so, and always, back he came, He burned, yet could not leave the flame; Through streets that tortured him he stole, Past houses, trees, that cut his soul; And once, when happening to see A place where they had taken tea, He dared not face the endless pain. Of passing it, and so again Went in, alone, for tea and cake, Took just the things that she would take, And stared at them, and went away Leaving them, untouched, on the tray. 0, and how often if by chance Some beauty held his absent glance, Some beauty which he could not share With her, sudden it seemed unfair, That he should be alive to see This loveliness, and yet, not she! And so he turned his back, was driven EARTH TRIUMPHANT 45 Back to her garden as to haven, To touch her roses, care for them, Pick scales away from leaf and stem, And suffer endlessly the pang When cheerfully her robin sang; While else, upon his hungry ears, Came only quiet, still as tears. . . Lying awake sometimes it seemed, When long and wakefully he dreamed Nightmarish dreams, that he must spend All of his life, without an end, In going to see, however far, All things she d looked at, earth or star, House and face and sea and steeple, And comedies, and all the people That she had ever seen in trains, And all the hills and all the plains, And all the sunsets in the sky And all that she had seen go by, Hear all the music she had heard, Read all she d read, each little word, 46 EARTH TRIUMPHANT And walk on stones she d walked upon, And go on journeys she had gone, Touch her leaf and touch her flower, And day by day and hour by hour Unravel all her life again, Unknot each point with subtlest pain, Minute by minute, till he had O God, till he was going mad! And then he covered face, and cried O God that she, not he, had died ! And yet, time passed, time somehow passed, Into his old life he was cast, Drew down his windows, shut out sun, And took his books down one by one, To read old tales of vanished times, To while the hours with gentle rhymes, And bury under word and word The clock s tick so forever heard. And each philosophy, each creed, With eager glances he would read, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 47 Hoping, at his journey s end, That he would blissfully ascend Into heavens filled with peace Where all his weariness would cease, Where gentle solace he would find And patience that would lead him blind Through all life s waste; or at the last, Wlien all the desert had been past, To give him faith that he might meet In death one who alive was sweet. His grief now was a quiet thing, Gentle, and not so quick to wing, And now the silence of this place Was home to him, and he could face Her picture, even: pain dwelled there, Yet it was pain that he could bear. And now it was a sacred rite Beside her picture, every night, To set two candles, there to shine All night, as if it were a shrine ; And always on his desk to keep, 48 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Where dusty books were piled up deep, Two roses in a little vase; And often then his eyes he d raise To look, or stroke a petal s cheek, Or listen, wishing they would speak. . . And then go on with quickened eye To read queer tales of times gone by, Of magic mirrors, magic rings, Wicked, elfin, holy things, Of flying horses, talking birds, All written down in dewy words, And many things of ancient time Told with musick and with rhyme. And in this world of books again Fainter grew the world of men, And paler grew the light of sun; And by wan light of star and moon, That gentler was upon his eyes, Coming from remoter skies, He mused abroad and tried to find The solace that s within the mind. EARTH TRIUMPHANT 49 What was it? Often he read on Till night was dusking into dawn, Till the red sun swimming came To turn the dew-drops into flame, And all the roosters, crowing shrill, Stirred the town, in twilight still, Answering from wall to wall, Waiting betwixt call and call; Till upon the mantelpiece Both the candles were but grease, All their light gone, only grey. Then he put his books away, Weary, with a weight of grief, Too tired to turn another leaf; And making of his palm a cup He picked the roses petals up, Where they d fallen on green baize, Softly, underneath the vase, And climbed the silent stairs to bed, Slowly, with a gentle tread, 50 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Lest he make an echo stir, And lest he wake the ghost of her. . . In weariness, in weariness, He found a balm for loneliness, And all the summer, in the dim, His dusty volumes wearied him, They blurred his eyes and fogged his brain, They gave him sleep to dull his pain ; And farther, farther from his ken Receded that small world of men, That world which strangely left behind A whirling sunlight in his mind, A world of color, shape, and sound, Where grass grew thickly on the ground, Where densely hung the leaves of green With sparrows rustling in between . . . While sun was here and sun was there Putting life in branches bare, And myriad rain-drops came in showers Like lovers to the quiet flowers, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 51 And robins all the sweeter thrilled Because their throats with rain were filled. And all earth was a lovely place That worshipped at one shining face! A world of spring ... He looked out now, The leaves were sallow on the bough, Black boughs, where yellow leaves and red Hung limp, while some, already shed, Lay matted dankly on the earth Blown down in midst of bacchic mirth; And over all, the dark boughs through, Sharply, the sky s autumnal blue . . . A little while, grey sky and snow . . . And of all this, what did she know? Could she feel dead leaves settling down, The scarlet maple, oak leaves brown? These purple asters, did she see? None who had loved them more than she ! And, strange, he longed to write to her, To tell her how these earth-things were, Tell how her roses blossomed so, 52 EARTH TRIUMPHANT And robin left two weeks ago . . . How all the leaves on all the trees Were holding bacchic mysteries, Drinking some strange autumn breath Of subtle air that gave them death : Death most glorious ever seen Living fire that burst from green Consuming all the trees like song And licking heaven with flaming tongue! Then suddenly fell his bolt of shame : To say, earth goes on, just the same! . . . Fierce autumn burns in every leaf . . . He did sharp penance, then, of grief. Sometimes his wound bled fresh again: As one day, when in misty rain, When rain was dripping from wet eaves And weighing down the fevered leaves, He walked, scarce conscious of the way, Into the churchyard where she lay. Almost a fortnight he d let pass. EARTH TRIUMPHANT 53 Now on the wet and fading grass, Lay dead leaves in a yellow heap As though they came with her to sleep, i Soft maple leaves, and flaming yet, So bright they were with being wet. And everything was there so still, So quiet the trees stood on the hill, That there was not a sound, except The little rain, that always kept A pattering, a pattering, On earth and leaves and everything. It seemed all earth forbore to stir So he might bend and speak to her, Touch wet grass with finger-tips And close to earth put down his lips, And bring her hidden body near So she might hear, so she might hear. What did she think of, all this space? And did this cold rain wet her face? O God he longed to see her so ! Only an hour, so they might know 54 EARTH TRIUMPHANT All griefs that each one grieved alone, So pain might vanish, being known ! So he might say he loved her still, And yet, at times, against his will, Her sweet face vanished from his mind, A fire blown out, nor could he find For hours that white face anywhere; If he could only touch her hair With fingers, as he used to do, So soft, when all alone, they two, They sat at home on days like this, If he could only have one kiss Of lips or cheek, or on her eyes, (Both eyes, for fear of jealousies) He d know her loveliness again And there d be beauty in this pain. What loneliness she must feel here! And then he seemed to see her clear, Her small face wonderfully at rest, Her small hands folded on her breast, So pallid, in her crimson laid, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 55 Seeming to dream, so unafraid . . . And yet, this calm of hers was lie ; For she had gone without good-bye, Without their good-bye kiss, which they Gave always, when they went away; And he knew full well, thinking this, Her heart had broken for that kiss, Having, without his touch, to go Out on a dark she did not know . . . Why did she lie there now so still, And he so close? Could not her will Push earth and leaves and grass aside, Could she not hear him if he cried? And then his whole heart burst with grief, His hand was on a rainy leaf, The wet grass pressed his mouth, while he Sobbed her name, twice, quietly . . . Still there was not a sound, except The little rain, that always kept On earth, and leaves, and everything, A pattering, a pattering. 56 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Yet, though he often pulled the blind To shut out sun, within his mind Came back again that world of spring Where earth in sunlight seemed to sing, And green boughs moved against the sky, With talking leaves, and birds flashed by; And brooding on an ancient page, Hushed waters of a frozen age, Above those twilight waters came This world like living sun of flame, And all his grief began to seem, Beside that freshness, like a dream. It all came clear to him, and sweet; He felt cool grass beneath his feet, Was conscious of the moving earth, Felt stirrings of her living mirth . . . And all his books seemed grey and dead Like withered petals long time shed, And all philosophy seemed dust That whirled strange shapes for every gust; Never would he discover there EARTH TRIUMPHANT 57 A consolation for despair. His clock struck nine, his clock struck ten ; And still he mused on this; and then He felt within his soul ascend, Quietly as a breath of wind That blows in May through apple-bloom, A cool light coming through the gloom; And in his room there seemed to be A fragrance, it was surely she, For all his spirit seemed to float, So easily, and from his throat A pressure gave, and all his face Seemed light with some celestial grace ; Across his brow her cool hands lay, He seemed to hear her laugh, and say That it was time, high time at last, For grief to be forgot and past, That he, philosophising done, Must lift his face again to sun And go where apple-blossoms blew Like snows across the fields, wherethrough 58 EARTH TRIUMPHANT The blue-birds, with their tawny breasts, Glanced in sunlight to their nests. For he must rise and live again, And walk among the world of men, Touch earth, and take her wind and rain Gently to heal him of his pain . . . And then truth came, he seemed to rise Released at last through quiet skies, Through silver airs of heaven, whereon Hung gentlest music of a dawn, And all that music seemed to be A praise of being high and free, Of coming joy and going sorrow Of going night and coming morrow ; And wings released at last for flight Flashed whitely upward through the night . . . Three petals, pink upon green baize, He picked up underneath the vase, And on the mantelpiece he turned One candle that uneven burned ; And then looked outward through the night EARTH TRIUMPHANT 59 And saw the autumn stars, so bright, Shine downward through the branches dark, Already leafless, drear and stark. Alternate day and night a while, And lo, once more in green would smile Maple and sycamore and oak . . . Then something little in him broke, And all was plain : for she would be Unhappy just as long as he, And sad as long as he was sad ; But she would laugh, he being glad! . . . Dawn came, new dawn. The moon went down. Cocks crowed across the sleepy town ; Languid and faint the red sun came And bathed the steeples in young flame ; And a white peace flowed wide between This lover and his ghostly queen. Go winter, and come quickly spring! Robin, come north again and sing! 60 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Over the snowy earth he walked, All nature smiled to him and talked, And this remote blue winter sky So unapproachable, so high, Smiled friendly down, he thought it said That past days were forever dead, With cloud and dark, and now for earth Quiet it shone, with candid mirth. And all these birch trees, shaking bare And silvery in the winter air, Were conquering a forgotten grief, Already dreaming of new leaf! The sunset gleamed on ice and snow, The western hills were all aglow, And through the oaks the red sun dropped; And then the bitter north wind stopped, And underneath this ice and snow He heard the small brook singing flow, As though in April s sun and shadow It watered cowslips in a meadow. The frosty night came cold and clear; EARTH TRIUMPHANT 61 Yet in that stillness he could hear Under the whiteness and the cold Roots starting in the frozen mold . . . And then he felt new life in him Like flowers of red surge up and swim Through all his blood; and all earth moved With life of her whom he had loved, Till she was earth and earth was she, She was this snow, this brook, this tree . . . And joy rose up in him, and song, As buoyantly he walked along : Go winter, and come quickly spring, Robin, come north again and sing! Spring in his soul so strong he felt That when earth s snows began to melt He deemed that it was earth and he In subtly planned conspiracy; For earth was she and she was earth, She was his mistress and his mirth, And she and he on pleasure bent 62 EARTH TRIUMPHANT This sunlight and this joyance sent. What joy this was! From sunny eaves Drops sparkled down, and grass and leaves Already through earth s snow appeared Where earth by hazy sun was cleared ; And down the streets began to flow Bright rivers from the dying snow, Rapidly braiding streams that sung Melodious spring, impetuous, young; And icicles fell tinkling down And earth came upward, steaming brown, And wet snow from the roofs was slipping And everywhere was ceaseless dripping, Flash and patter and breathing ease, Of stirring earth and stretching trees, And pools of water, blue in sun. Spring miracle once more begun! And walking under warm blue skies Warming the eyelids on his eyes He felt well what it was to be A seed in all this revelry, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 63 To feel the soil grow warm above, And rain-drops stealing down like love! But best of all was knowing this: That all this was his lover s kiss, His lover come, in guise of earth, To justify, for all time, mirth! So for a flight of magic days In these ways and in other ways The reawakened life in him Woke tunings intricate with whim, Slow earthy sequences of tone, Earth-horns, an under-earth trombone, A tentative perplexing din ; Whence softly rose a violin To sing an April phrase, and then Was lost in jargonings again. From this confusion, mingling sweet, It needed but a single beat Swiftly to draw and lead in one Those subtle sequences of tone : 64 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Out of the deeps each voice to bring In waking symphony to sing, Bidding it quicken, bidding it rise, Steadfast to shine like stars in skies, To cry out against all that is, To shine, to shine with ecstasies, Till all the stars grew dim thereby, Its vast wings shadowed all the sky, Its shadow fell on moon and sun And sun and moon grew dull and dun, And all the starry multitude Were smitten into servitude, And love s compulsion made them sing Our glory grace this marriage ring! The sun shot lustre through her hair, The wind made golden havoc there, A whirling whiteness was her dress ; O trebled was her loveliness Upon these hills, beneath this blue, These dusky cedars walking through ! EARTH TRIUMPHANT 65 Along the top of the world they walked And laughed, and ran, and lightly talked; The sunlight captured even their words Making them flash as bright as birds, Giving the heaviest phrases wing And bidding simplest words to sing! Yet, seeing the sunlight on her cheek, It seemed as if he could not speak, For all her body shone like wit, Earth s wit, a grace so exquisite, Exquisite laughter, flashing wild, That he was tongue-tied, like a child. O wonderful sunshine of this day, O wonderful music of this May, In her they reached their perfect song; And as she walked so white along, Whitely and joyously, as in sun The wonderful sea-waves singing run, He felt the earth dissolving dim And slipping out from under him, And dizzily, dizzily he was borne, 66 EARTH TRIUMPHANT And stone and tree from him were torn, Nothing to cling to! Naught but air ... And then the sunshine on her hair, Her shining eyes, her moving feet, Her lips that talking moved so sweet, Her young neck, and the hands she raised To shade blue eyes from sun that blazed, These, in a world that reeled unsure, Seemed stars to hold to, shone secure . . . And unapproachable and high She bent above him like the sky ; And yet, not unapproachable; For tone and laughter seemed to tell That though she moved so high and free Yet she could lean to such as he, And like the sunlit April skies Shoot golden laughter through cold eyes . . . Then through a world of flowering green She seemed to lean, she seemed to lean, The whole blue sky seemed bending down, With swift warm winds about him blown, EARTH TRIUMPHANT 67 He saw her eyes, he saw her cheek, So close, and yet he could not speak, But still bent backward, striving still To meet and break all heaven s will, To fight this splendor from his face, To find a little foothold space, To laugh; then earth began to swing, Swiftly his hands flashed out to cling, And, as it were for one kiss meant, Towards her mouth his whole soul went, And warmness and a stillness came And all his heart was fused with flame. Earth triumphant, and love declared! All earth held breath, the lovers stared Each in the other s laughing eyes, While quiet music went through skies; And a blackbird in a cedar swinging Straight from their own one heart seemed singing . . . So wonderful, they stood quite still While soft sea-wind came up the hill, 68 EARTH TRIUMPHANT Quiet as earth was when she lay All breathless, waiting the kiss of day; Quiet as God, when he had made These stars, and, seeing, was half afraid. Love was alive once more, and came Out of the earth like uttered flame In this sweet body, in this sweet face, This exquisite, living, laughing grace. And yet, old love, old faith, he deemed, Stood firm ; for now again it seemed Her brightness broke from earth, and this Was their reunion ... In this kiss Her soul came back to him again, After long absence, bitter pain ; Her mouth, her eyes these seemed to be, Lo, re-embodied, this was she! Earth sang, and trembled ; down went sun, The dark poured out, the day was done . . So, in a year s time, triumphed earth, This May, as last May, brought him mirth. YOUTH. EARTH, mother dust, green star of heaven, Gay, rapid dancer, lover of the sun, Thou of his many brides to whom was given The thrill of life, still starting, never done: Under whose mother heart warm quickenings run, The fires of birth and tremulous ecstasy, The boon and curse of his fierce love of thee : mother dust, so careless of thy young ; Who, still intent upon thy love s bright face, Know of us only as thy love-song, sung By thee, to him, passionately, through space ; Bright laughing queen, dancer of silver grace, 69 70 YOUTH Who, so absorbed in thy sweet dance s mov ing, Care not for us, the children of thy loving, Saving that thou must change, from time to time, The ageing for the youthful, grey for green, Lest, in thy love-song, Sun should miss its chime, And thou, without thy vesture, seem less queen : This cry to thee, out of thy soul, unseen, One of thy children lifts in desolation, Asking to know the cause of his creation, Asking to know if thou hast heart for him, And for all these, the children of thy womb, Who grope, and cry, and call on thee in hymn, On whom thou smilest now, now givest gloom; YOUTH 71 Thou scatterest darkness upon seed and bloom, And some thou lovest, some thou makest die: Therefore one of thy children lifts this cry, Into the utter darkness of thy being, Hoping that it may somehow dimly reach, Cry to thy heart, and bend thy heart to see ing These loveless, motherless children who be seech ; So mayest thou then give justice unto each, Or happiness, maybe ; or, if that were pain, Take back our breaths and give us dark again. The surf broke whitely along Coney Beach, But he was sickened by that shrieking crowd, 72 YOUTH So, with a slow strong overhanded reach, Out for the sea he swam, with head low bowed ; The June sky shone bright blue, without a cloud ; Fiercely over the sea the south wind whipped, Spray blew, gulls veered, the sea raged in, white-lipped ; But he was goaded by that roar of throats, He hated them, they had no strength, no nerve, They did not dare to strike beyond the floats, They clung to ropes . . . While he, with dip and swerve, With face turned back, and brown arm s tire less curve, Fought with the sea s alternate fall and rise, Burst through, shook water out of mouth and eyes; YOUTH 73 Then steadied, with a hard and rhythmic stroke, Forged through the glorious tumult of cold green, Slid down smooth backs, shot under crests that broke, Rose strong again, laughed inwardly, serene; By god, the real thing, this! He tingled keen ; True as a knife he flashed in sea and sun, And laughed for joy to feel the strong blood run: To feel his muscles working smooth and strong, Beating this senseless force, bitterly beating, Crushing the sea, his body all one song, Fierce and sweet, and merciless in defeat ing ... Slowly the beach s sounds grew faint and fleeting, 74 YOUTH He was alone, exultant, with the sea, He had flung earth away, his soul was free . . . Flung off mankind and all its sordidness, Its pettiness, all its cowardice, its greed; Its timid, sneaking lusts, its bloodlessness, Throats that if cut, he thought, could hardly bleed . . . He had flung all this off, and he was freed : Of time and space, and all laws made by man; For out, where no tides are, his strong soul ran. Wind blew, sun shone, the sea came with a roar, White burst and smother of foam, with green and blue, Endlessly, rapidly, dizzying towards the shore YOUTH 75 Wave upon wave under the wind they flew ; Sharply above him came the sea-gulls mew, He saw their white wings flash, their bodies lifting, The yellow feet held close; he saw them drifting Swiftly and lightly, like a shimmer, away, Down wind, and wheel, he saw the keen eyes turning . . . The air came strong, he breathed new life to-day, Each hard breath set his soul more fiercely burning ; Life to a furious life in him was yearning ; Youth towered and shone in him, flamed in his eyes, And he rose brightly up in clear bright skies. By god, the real thing, this! He turned and lay 76 YOUTH At ease, rising and falling, breathing deep, And loved the sky, and looked across the bay Over that blue floor watched the black squalls sweep, Filling white sails and making schooners leap, Trailing the thin smoke swiftly from the ferry, Blowing the spray from wave-tops, mad and merry . . . The real thing, this! and all these endless days, These days of senseless drudgery, it was this That set his soul in fever, in a craze, To break away, to feel the crushing bliss Of life that wars with life, the seethe and hiss, Arm shattering wave, and blind wave smash ing face, YOUTH 77 Laughter and shout of wind, and gulls in race! The surge washed over him ; he lay at ease, With head thrown back, rising and falling slow ; And he scorned life, now, as he scorned these seas, They fought him hard, but could not over throw ; He was the stronger life, and they must go ; Past his cheek went weeds and bubbles streaming, Sun flashed, the foam burst white, but he lay dreaming. ^ \Beauty and strength and youth he was all these ; [e knew his power; he was the purest life, iife as it came up out of slimy seas /Eons ago . . . ready and strong for strife, 78 YOUTH Armed with a thirst that glittered like a knife, A lust for life, for power, a hot clear passion All earth unto his own heart s peace to fash ion . . . He was all this, selfish and fierce and strong, Hating the weak, and all things he could beat, Knowing that strength was right and weak ness wrong, Knowing that death was bitter and life was sweet, His days a fruit to crush with hands and feet; No hell, no heaven there was, no god or devil, They were but snares, and snares were good and evil; By god, he saw it now ! there were no laws, Not one in nature ... strength was justice there, YOUTH 79 Every heart for itself with teeth and claws . . . But man! he saw man creeping, with sleek hair, To kill the strong, in crowds, it wasn t fair, They came and snarled and stamped him into dirt, Virtuously, for fear his strength might hurt! . . . He lashed out with his feet, broke wave with hands, Shot green and shimmering through, made eddies spin, Fast as the sea he burst towards the sands, His heart cried out, he felt new life begin, And like a god he flashed towards the din Of men and women bickering on the beach; Seeing the women splashing, screech on screech, 80 YOUTH And fat men basking bellies in the sun, And sickly city youths who dared not swim, Who gasped in water and then came out to run Self-conscious on the shore, flabby and slim, Turning sly eyes to sleek a woman s limb Or bit of skin above the stocking gleaming, Or breast that stood out clear from water streaming; Pah, how it sickened him ! Swiftly he came, Caught lightly along in foam, a sea-god bright, Flashed through the surf, burst through the crowd like flame, Scattered the frightened children left and right, Sent a youth spinning, who glowered but dared not fight, Ran tingling, roseate, digging toes in sand, YOUTH 81 And laughed because girls stared on every hand . . . The June dusk came, in Jersey set the sun, Warm smiling light lay over land and sea; The tree-tops burned; he saw the sea-gulls run Through upper rose-fire, shining, floating, free; They made the most of life, and so would he,- He mounted wind with them, strong wings were his, Earth dropped beneath, he burst where sun light is, Beat the earth down with dark and angry wings, With every wing-beat felt his body lifting, Lost sound and sight of earth and earthy things, 82 YOUTH High up, triumphant, with a calm wind drift ing; To watch night rise, and stars through dark clouds rifting, Ah, that was life! and not this dusty sprawl ing, These whimpering creatures in the darkness crawling! He looked at all their white suspicious faces, Hands pale and lean, limp and slavish and vile, Insolence born of cowardice, slouching paces, The crafty glance, insinuating smile . . . They did not live they only breathed a while, Tortured themselves, prayed, cursed beneath their breath, Made a wry smiling face at god, then death . YOUTH 83 Under his feet the electric motors hummed, The bright train sped through night, a living thing; The poles whipped past; rhythmic, the rail- frogs drummed ; Lights flashed and vanished by as if on wing; This too was life, this speed! He heard it sing, And there was power in it, and ecstasy, Its exultation set his spirit free . . . And when at last he lay that night in bed, Tired deliciously, athirst for sleep, All this new music triumphed in his head, A thousand voices, shrill and sweet and deep ; In a vast cosmic ring he felt it sweep, Like a great tide of stars he felt it run, And he among them, round some blinding sun; 84 YOUTH He heard the people passing in the street, The slow steps on the pavement rang out clear ; He heard his watch tick, musically sweet; A drunkard sang, then silence, like a fear; Then, like a fairy voice from some far sphere, Came the slow bells from Metropolitan Tower, Now near, now far, the quarters and then the hour; Trolling out sweetly now, now fading far, Then the deep solemn voice, twelve times it spoke, And then the quiet ... he lay and watched a star Which dimmed and shone through blowing chimney-smoke ; So earth went on ... But in him something broke, YOUTH 85 An exquisite breaking, shot with fire of pain, Something was born in him, and something slain; He stared wild-eyed, lay mute, then laughed a second, Drunken with wine of youth; and he knew now That times had changed for good, that life had beckoned, That he must go and live, he cared not how, Only to fight, take, kill, and never bow : Stake all, win all, lose all, what mattered this? Fighting for life, even to die were bliss! II. Weeks passed, a whirl of lights and sound and laughter, 86 YOUTH A fever dream, vertiginous, roaring, mad, He quit his job, not caring what came after, And struck out blindly; money enough he had, And life, by Christ, would go now as he bade; He got it by the throat, he was its master ; Sing! went his whip, and life danced on the faster. He drank, he cursed, he flung the world off spinning, He fought three times, a girl the cause each time, He broke Jake Franz s jaw to stop him grinning, Whirled stars about his head and made them chime; He got in with a gang whose .work was crime, Helped crack a jewelry store, then half killed one YOUTH 87 Who called him cheat at cards, and pulled a gun . . . At the stage doors he met with murmured curses, He waltzed the queens away, he had his will ; He laughed to see the sports look black as hearses, White blooded things! Did they have hands, to km? Touch of soft fingers on him made him thrill, He strode, his nostrils quivered stiff with scorn, He wondered why these little men were born . . . He waltzed the queens away, his smile, his voice, The youth that sang like music through his veins, 88 YOUTH They laughed and clung to him, they had no choice, He was a love-song full of witching strains; He danced them out of the world of work and pains, Girl after girl, white arms came gladly after, The music drew, he danced them off with laughter. He did not love them, they were shining dust, Speciously bright soft wonders filled with lies, Timid and insolent, rotten with fawning lust, Foolish, with no more depth than peacocks - eyes; They lusted after him, to make him prize, To hold his body or even to take his soul- He smiled, they wept and cursed, but he kept whole. YOUTH 89 One after one he tempted, drew, eluded, Smiled upon, only to show more keen his hate, Boldly into their dusty hearts intruded ; He bade them know themselves, he came like fate; They loved him? But they loved, he said, too late, Their life burned out; they should have thought of this! Scornful, on pale lips then, a farewell kiss. Youth yearns to youth, full blood loves full blood only, He was too bright, too masterful, too keen, He was too good for these, so he stood lonely, A lonely king waiting the lonely queen; An unsurpassable fire, unknown, unseen, Impalpable dream, the warm bright mist of life, 90 YOUTH Music, white stars; so dreamed he of a wife . . . A wife? A mistress rather ... he would not wed: That was to stoop in chains, renounce his wings, Break body and heart and soul for daily bread, Get down and crawl among all crawling things! Life is not life that only day s work brings ! Crush, master, show no mercy, take, not give- No god save self, that is the way to live . . . He walked Sixth Avenue, the night was fine ; And strangely, then, a doubt came, like a flame ; Was this way life? He quenched the doubt in wine, YOUTH 91 Walked lightly out ... In crowds the har lots came, They laughed, they sang, they moved so free from shame, So frank in lust! These creatures knew life s taste, They danced it night and day, no hour to waste . . . They danced, for what was living but a dance? Until they sank down whitely to the floor, Their rioting done, seeing in that last glance, New youth come laughing through the burst ing door, New eyes to shine, new dancers evermore, And this same savage, passionate music played : Still the same music, though the dancers fade. 92 YOUTH Doubt turned in him . . . only a moment s space . . . Was life best so? Where was the fight in this? Night-fears! ... He knew a girl, she was fair of face, She had soft hair, her mouth was cool to kiss; And she could dance, and dancing would be bliss . . . Us for the music, kid, there s ragtime play ing! A night of nights! She laughed, with no gainsaying . . . Only, I hope my Jake Franz won t be there Poor Jake! he loves me . . . and he might be jealous; And then, besides, you hit him one, for fair; YOUTH 93 He has been blowing round me like a bel lows, These last two weeks; you know, these love-sick fellows, Well, you can t say! mother, hold me, honey ! Doesn t this music make your feet feel funny! The music wailed, sinuous, drawling, svelt, Languid, impassioned, a living and beating thing, Girls closed their eyes and let their bodies melt, The men laughed strangely, held them close to swing; There were tense movements, tense as cry ing string, Short vibrant steps, quivering stiff with pas sion, Body to body yearning, stripped of fashion; 94 YOUTH Short breaths, arms held out straight, a subtle swaying, Sometimes a girl, with music almost crazed, Wailed a few bars; and all the musicians playing Leaned to their bows a little, like men half dazed . . . Women were drunk with it, their skirts they raised, They showed their knees, frantic they were, to tear These husks away and leave bright bodies bare . . . Frantic, in one fierce effort to be released, To loose their souls from centuries of re straint, They gave themselves, until the music ceased, Then staggered back: to benches, flushed and faint; YOUTH 95 They had forgotten puff and powder and paint, They were but creatures drunken with mad moving, Drugged with the body s lust, the body s loving. Jim and his girl sat at a table drinking, Watching the dancers in a haze of smoke, And, as he watched them, back that doubt came slinking, It seemed as if some voice within him spoke ; What was this life? A laugh, a smutty joke A drink, a giddy step, a dance, a kiss, Then the long darkness of the last abyss. This was not living, but a mad decay, Shining in darkness, like all things that rot, A whore-house ball, garish and grim by day, Lifeless and sallow and sad, a desolate spot; 96 YOUTH Where was the music now ? It answered not ; Shutters were drawn, closed like the eyes of death, Smell of dead roses came, a febrile breath . . . Well, he would quit this night would be his last. What he would do he could not say as yet; He drank, May talked ; before his mind s eye passed A host of things . . . the Amazon, Tibet, Africa . . . There, exploring, he might for get These effete countries swarmed with maggot man, Masterful, where great winds, great rivers ran . . . Honduras, Hayti, rebellions every day; He might be king or fly-blown in a ditch ; YOUTH 97 Imperial Caesar dead and turned to clay! . . . Turn socialist? Pah, no, it made him itch, Sick, scabrous dogs! . . . Christ no, not that! ... But which? He did not know; he smiled, May talked to him, The smoke hung round the dancers, wreath ing dim. He heard and answered, with a dreamy smile, May s smutty talk, she pressed his knee with hers; Why not clear out to mountains for a while, Breathe pure air sweetened by the pines and firs, Where blue-jay screeches and the swift hawk whirs, 98 YOUTH Why not? ... By god, he would! He d go next day; And at the thought he laughed and kissed this May. They danced again ; the music, like a sea, Swept them away, as blind and light as foam, They leapt to stars, wind bore them high and free, They whirled, they laughed, May clutched a flying comb . . . The music stopped . . . Jim stared: I m going home; I m tired of you, and all this rutting crowd ! I m quit. He smiled, sarcastic, stiffly bowed . . . And stalked away, seeing Jake Franz look sour, Pull down his waistcoat with elaborate care, YOUTH 99 Smile subtly to himself, adjust a flower, Pass one palm lightly over oily hair . . . Jim kissed his hand to him . . . Thank god, fresh air! He drew deep breaths, fair from the sea it came, He filled his heart with new life like a flame. Where were the stars? Ah, he remembered, then: Above Fifth Avenue there are no stars; They have been banished by the lights of men, Theatre-lights, electric signs, bazars, Cafes and Lobster-houses, glorious bars; Well, he was quit of this, perhaps for good; He yearned for mountains, valleys, field and wood . . . Where you could see the sun rise bright through trees, Slanting his glamour over mountain-tops, 100 YOUTH Touching the waves of forests broad as seas, Taking the flash of dew from field and copse ; There in the pines a ghost-wind never stops, And stars shine down at night through frosty air; He could scorn man, see truth, he thought, from there . . . Yes! He would see life clear from windy heights, Find a new path ... In this place who could see? A maze of sweating days and feverish nights, Imploring hands and mouths, a drunken glee, Oaths and despair, abysmal misery ; He would go out . . . and then would find a way. He was aloft and walked in dawn of day. Up a dark street he turned, deserted, quiet . . . He mused . . . then suddenly, vaguely, he became YOUTH 101 Aware as of some shadow . . . His heart ran riot, Jake Franz stood black . . . By Jesus, it s a shame The way you treat my girl! Say, what s your game? What do you think I am, you swill-pail cat! You think I ll eat your leavings? . . . Tell me that! Speak up, my boy! Things have to be ex plained. Nonchalant, sneering, then, he flicked Jim s chin; Jim raged, lights ran, he struck out, some thing pained, In Jake s hand flashed a knife-blade, long and thin; Then Jake dropped downward, darkly, like a sin, Out of the universe, silent as wind it seemed, 102 YOUTH * Lost in the bottomless darkness, only dreamed . . . Jim stood above him, staring . . . Where had he gone? Ah, he was there . . . Get up, you fool! he said, He kicked him twice; vague pains went gleaming on, There in his side, he felt it wet, he bled . . . No use though, as he knew: the man was dead, Dead as the stone beneath him ... He felt pain . . . Angry, Get up, you fool ! he said again . . . He kicked the shape once more, then bending down Scanned the white face, the thin jaw crushed aside, YOUTH 103 The eyebrows puckered in a puzzled frown . . . Dead as the dust! Jim smiled. A wave of pride Surged redly up in him, he beamed, wide- eyed ; Then somewhat peevish, stumblingly, he turned, And walked off, slowly, for his side still burned . . . He washed his cut, changed clothes, and took a train ; Wound his watch carefully, and heard it tick Faintly beneath his pillow . . . Damn that pain . . . He tossed a bit, heard sleepers breathing thick, With clouded passion prayed that train be quick; 104 YOUTH Lifting the shade he saw black woods go by, Bright sea . . . dark farm ... a cold moon in the sky . . . III. Up the green valley filled with sun he walked, The mountains dreamed in quiet round the sky, The cold brook, flashing down, half sang, half talked, Trees shook; and in blue heaven, frail and high, Like a last flurry of snow went cirrus by ; The forests rose above him, burned or green, Bare rocky summits glowed in sun, serene. Earth! The strong mother, bitter and un kind, Savagely laughing from her lover s kiss, Tender, voluptuous, hard, unmerciful, blind, YOUTH 105 Earth, his fierce mother, he knew revealed in this; Up the green road he walked, his heart was bliss, Savagely laughing back, a bitter mirth ; Earth did not care for him, nor he for earth . . . Out of her rocks, her mountains, wind and rain, Lightning and cold and ice, at kiss of sun She gave his body birth and felt no pain ; Torpid she lay, she felt no hot blood run, Smiled at her lord, nor knew what she had done; Life was her smile to sun, her song of praise. . . He had no debt, then, he would go his ways . . . Yes, go his ways, be true to her, her child, Merciless, hard, voluptuous, soft as dust; 106 YOUTH Leave life unchecked in him, be clean and wild, Fashion his days with strong hands, wreak his lust . . . Youth was a knife, he would not let it rust! But cut with it, cut merciless to the core ; Life sharpens, fighting life, and lives the more . . . He had known what it was to seize and kill, To crush with hands, to feel the hot blood hum; Stamped dust in dust, and known the savage thrill Thick in his heart, a laughter in him, dumb ; Shining he rose from that now let life come, Legioned in dark, he had the strength to meet it, Let a vast angry world come, he would beat it! YOUTH 107 He found a farm, midway from town to town, Blake s farm; old Blake was looking for a man; A gentle soul, his face was seamed and brown, Grief-struck it seemed, inscrutable to scan; His wife had run away, so rumor ran ; He talked in whispers, held a pail of water: Jim took the job because he saw Blake s daughter . . . Walking towards them, tall and sweet she came, Lightly over the grass, as blossom snowing, Jim s eyes flared up, he thought By god, fair game ! And watched her keen . . . Her soft white dress was blowing, Softly, a little, a glimpse of stocking show ing; 108 YOUTH Three daisies shone like stars in her dark hair, Her eyes were deep, her brown slim neck was bare. Her soft dress blowing made a rustling sound ; Rhythmic she came ; over her quiet face The wind blew strays of hair, she slightly frowned, An absent gesture brushed them back in place ; April she was, she came with April s grace, Into his heart she came, softly as fire, And in his eyes rose lightnings of desire. She was the earth that s gentle, smiles in sun, The soft green earth of spring, the hush of spring, Young earth in whom have hardly yet begun YOUTH 109 The blossom-fires that snow and burn and sing: Youthful and grave, a wise and shining thing, Unscathed by knowledge, therefore trebly wise, Unburned by passion yet, with undimmed eyes. The new man, Jane; just show him round the farm/ The old man whispered; Jane s face lighted then, She smiled to Jim, her soul faced his soul, calm, She had the frank straightforwardness of men. She led him round, showed pasture, fallows, pen, The apple orchard, full of grey old trees, The barn, a poultry-yard, some hives of bees . 110 YOUTH Jim saw, but saw not; hungrily he listened Lest he should miss her voice s slightest word, Sweetly she spoke, and, hearing, Jim s eyes glistened, Never before so sweet a voice he d heard ; It bubbled, it broke in spray, like song of bird; Like living waters that through a spring wood run, A quiet glee, a flashing in warm sun. Into his soul like song of fire it went, Warm tremulous music, strangely bringing power, An April stir, an innocent blandishment, The spring blood pushing blindly out in flower . . . What was this change, the magic of an hour? He yearned to reach out arms to her and take her, YOUTH 111 She was so sweet! To crush, to bruise, to break her . . . She was so soft, so bright, so star-like pure, She walked beside him there so frank and free, Buoyantly quiet, smiling, ahvays sure; He watched her long, light step, the moving knee Rippling the soft white dress so gracefully; Fair game, by god! A savage strength in him Sang to his finger-tips, his eyes swam dim . . . Quiet, You must be lonely here ! he said, Here all alone with mountains and with sky . . . They talked a space, with often turning head, Each frankly pleased to have that other by. 112 YOUTH He thought, It won t be hard, she isn t shy, Two weeks, I ll have her! Glancing down, he smiled, Thinking her half a woman, half a child . . . They saw the farm, it was a pleasant place, Hard by a wood that sloped up to a hill, The brook between ; below there was a race, And when the wind came up you heard the mill; At night you d hear the woods, it was so still: Jim lay awake, hearing soft sough of leaves, The woods asleep, birds rustling in the eaves . . . And brook went droning downward, still the same, Soft as a dream . . . grey as the woof of sleep . . . YOUTH 113 Then, in his mind, her face came, bright as flame, He saw her smiling, saw her eyes grow deep ; He heard her speaking, saw her gesture sweep Over the deep fields, valley, shining hills, Clover, and sun-flash on high mountain- rills . . . Wild-carrot tossing whitely over meadows, Brown fallow, shining glossy from the plough, Over the fields, flying, went blue cloud-shad ows, Dimly, as if through water ... All this, now, Came keenly, with a breath of balsam bough Fresh from the woods . . . And he could see her face, Quiet and calm, sweet spirit of this place . . . 114 YOUTH Yes, it was calm, a shallow in life s river, Gently it moved, and lingered much in sun . . . He could stay here in languid ease forever, Not looking outward where swift waters run; No, though ! He must get out, the fight was fun; He would stay here till murder-fuss was over, Laze here a while, and dream things out, in clover . . . Ah! and for Jane! his eyes stared wide through night, As if they saw her beauty somewhere there, Walking so lithely through the sun s kind light . . . His body yearned to hers, for she was fair, Young, with young eyes, soft skin, and dark soft hair; YOUTH 115 Youth yearns to youth, full blood loves full blood only, She would be mirth, his stay would not be lonely . . . Only a while, he thought, only a while, He must go back to the dark world of men . . . He would but stay a summer, kiss her smile, Drink laughter from her bubbling mouth, and then, Well, she was nothing more! go back again . . . He laughed at her ... his dreams made vaguer riot . . . Sleep-webs came floating down, and he lay quiet. IV. Out through the fields they walked when work was done; 116 YOUTH Like bright quick thoughts a month of days had passed ; Time was but interchange of dark and sun, Clouds piled and massed and vanished, piled and massed; Dawn after dawn the patient spiders cast New gossamers on the grass to flash with dew; The crows cawed harsh ; red-tasselled the tall corn grew. The pumpkins glowed like fire among dark vines, Over wide fields danced myriad golden-rod, Yellowing earth; then came bright flash of tines, The hay-forks tossed, scythe swished, and old Blake trod Sadly and slowly, whispering thanks to God, And praying God to give three fine days more, YOUTH 117 Three days of sun, to take in winter s store . . . A month of days . . . Jim worked, he sang them by, Blew them off, soft as dandelion greys; For Jane was there, like full moon in the sky, Jane, with her voice, her smile, her quiet ways; Watching him work with wise and musing gaze, Talking so wisely, brushing back stray hair, Or broidering all day, quick, with soft arms bare. By god, I ll have her yet! Fool that I am! Jim rested back from hoeing, spat, changed grip, Thought he was faint of will, not worth a damn; 118 YOUTH He frowned: how had he let so much time slip? He, the ring-master, where now was his whip? Youth rose rebellious, savage flashed his hoe; By god, to-night! The time had come to go. The time had come : he must get back again, Where there was life, and fighting, blood to spill, He would walk strong and scornful among men, Take power from them, be master, wreak his will; He had known what it was to crush and kill- He knew his strength; if he were killed in stead, Well, he lived only once, but once was dead! Life must be rich in deeds: it did not matter YOUTH 119 If they were crime, so long as they were brave ; Let others make, it was his work to shatter, His work to take and spend, let others save; Life walked but once this night-road to the grave Ah, let it dance, then, sing, storm heights of power; Savage and swift, crush life from every hour! . . . Come for a walk, Jane, there s a new moon shining, Bright through the firs ... We ll go, I know a place . . . Through the warm dark they stepped ; a dog was whining; The wind came faintly up, they heard the race; He looked and saw the starlight on her face, 120 YOUTH And his heart pained him, loudly beating, beating; The fir-cones dropped, they walked ; and time was fleeting. The new moon swam through fir-tops, hid and shone, The trees made sounds in sleep ... or sounds in dream . . . As if they dreamed of life long dead and gone. At edge of wood, a soft slope down to stream, Dark, was a clover bed; with whir and gleam The big bees hung and hummed there in warm noon ; Sweetly it slept, now, drowsed by brook s slow tune . . . Here is my place ... It is so soft, in clover . YOUTH 121 So sweet ... I m sure the bees sleep here at night! . . . She laughed a while with him; O laugh of lover, That cries so deep and dark, that sings so light! They laughed a while, moon made their faces white, He saw her white hands moving at her throat, Clasping a brooch . . . On wind they seemed to float, Over the forest-tops, his heart was burning, Touching the leaves, softer than dream they were . . . Her dress shone pale, and all his soul went yearning To feel that whiteness, kiss, and capture her ; Out of the woods came soft a still-and-stir, 122 YOUTH They hardly breathed, dared not turn face to face; Their hearts beat loudly in that sleeping place. Jane, there is something . . . Speech was caught from him, Fire surged up in him, filled throat and eyes, I love you, Jane . . . 0, and I love you, Jim ! The words had burst and paled, and they were wise ; But they sat still, they watched the glorious skies, All the world s beauty through that darkness came, Jane s breath broke sharply, Jim hung head in shame . . . Her face was white with moonlight, her eyes deep, YOUTH 123 Her eyes closed slowly, feeling his warm kiss, Her softness came around his heart like sleep, Through all his veins she went, a singing bliss; Through all his veins, with fire and seethe and hiss, Like blossom-fires of spring her body went, He closed his eyes and knew now what life meant; This was life s flower, life meant no more than this: His mouth at her mouth, giving breath and taking, Body and soul surrendered in one kiss, The soul on fire within, the body shaking; Life had been dream before, now came his waking, She in his arms, her quick breath on his cheek, Her soft hair falling, hearts too full to speak. 124 YOUTH Life had been dream! His heart was loud with crying, To think how frantic, foolish he had been, Frantic in darkness, shouting, hitting, lying, Feeling this power but turning it to sin ; That was all dreamed ; he felt new life begin, And a last passionate grief shook darkly through him Lest this new wonder tame, unman, undo him . . . Jane, you re the stars, the suns, the moons of heaven, And all the beauty and strength and height and fire, The glory and power for which I ve blindly striven, Not knowing my aim, not knowing my own desire . . . He kissed her throat, they watched the moon climb higher, YOUTH 125 And the stars marching, marching, never stopping; The brook droned on, they heard the fir cones dropping; The moonlight made soft silver of the clover, Tremulous in warm wind . . . Face close to face, They saw this dark sweet world as love and lover, They were the soul of night and of this place ; Darkly through deep eyes they went out through space, Timeless, eternal, mingling the near and far, Changing from life to dream, from earth to star . . . Feeling the dream turn earth beneath their feet, Feeling the star turn human in their hands, In darkness finding dark eyes deep and sweet, 126 YOUTH And a warm human face in firebrands . . . Love s magic only a lover understands, Magic and magian, he is both in one, Shrinking to speck, dilating huge as sun . . . Up from the valley s dark, two miles below, The light wind brought a fading sound of bells, The church clock struck the hour, sweet and slow, Some notes they missed, some came with the wind s swells; The wind came soft, sweet with the soft night smells, Meadow and pines, and dew on new-mown grass; So time passes, so even earth must pass . . . Out of the clover then the lovers rose. Moved arm in arm, like ghosts; Jim gazed at Jane, YOUTH 127 And thought he walked on giddy heights of snows, Or breathed star-fire ... so sweet it was, twas pain; And they must stop to kiss, and kiss again, And touch with hands, and laugh, and walk on slowly, Through the moon s light that lay so still and holy . . . Good-night! Mouth fed on mouth, eyes closed with yearning, Body to body quivered and then stood still, And the hearts paused, and the blood ceased its burning, To hear the music of one perfect will . . . A long while then, leaning on window-sill, Jim stared at night; he felt a great calm , spread Wide in his soul ... as if his youth were dead . 128 YOUTH As if all strength, all fierceness, lust for life, The mad thirst, body s trembling greed for power, His love of war, the glittering of the knife, Faded, dislimned, all vanished in this hour. A sadness drooped his spirit ... Would he cower, Dream life away? Well, maybe dream was best, Dream, and the long slow years of calm and rest . . . No feverish search through the mad universe, Fighting to crush the small and kill the strong, Where was the good in that? That life was curse ; He would live calmly, usefully, and long, Plough earth, sow corn, make life a pastoral song, Take fill of love, and peace, and quiet mirth, YOUTH 129 Close to the calm heart of his mother, Earth . . . Long while Jim dreamed here, looking out at night, Till elbows ached from leaning, eyes were strained ; But then Jane s face came back so sweet, so white, In the moon s pale, and slow this trouble waned . . . The waters roared far out, he yearned, he pained, New youth would fight them . . . Here they ran, not deep, But calmly, smooth in sunlight, calm as sleep. He would stay here untroubled by life s sound, 130 YOUTH Through years to come he saw, year beyond year; He would stay here, go this life s quiet round, He saw himself grow old, still ploughing here . . . So in his love he dreamed, stirred by no fear That life was useless, useless age and youth, Sorrow and joy . . . Love touched him, veiled the truth: And life made slave of him . . . Meanwhile, the earth Still through the starlight danced her endless song, Turning her lord s love to slow death and birth, Still changing grey for green, the weak for strong ; Life s cry she heard not, knew not right or wrong ; YOUTH 131 Youth rose, youth fell; she smiled to sun, danced on, Smiling the same smile, dancing, dawn to dawn. ROMANCE. THE last farewells were said, friends hurried ashore, The screw threshed foam, and jarred; the pier slid by; Hands went to ears to still the siren s roar, Handkerchiefs waved, and there was call and cry; Over it all, austere and pure and high, Glittering snow and gold, the towers looked down, Serene and cold, regardless of the town. The wind blew north ; and gravely on it came The trolling of the Metropolitan bells, First the four chimes, softly as puffs of flame, Then the deep five . . . Slow, gentle, gleam ing swells 132 ROMANCE 133 Came glancing in the sun, with ocean smells, Up from the harbor and the further sea; Over the stern poised white gulls, giddily. Over the stern they poised and dipped and glanced, Now dull in shade, now shining in bright sun, And one youth watched them as they whirled and danced, And noticed how they circled, one by one; To have those wings, that freedom, God, what fun! And watching them he felt youth in him, strong, Wings in his blood, and in his heart a song. Autumn! Already now the keen wind nipped, The skies arched cold bright blue, the leaves were turning; 134 ROMANCE Whitely over the waves the cold squalls whipped ; Scarlet and pale, the maple trees were burn ing, Tossing in gusts, and whirling and returning, On Staten Island, wonderfully afire; In bacchic song they flamed, with mad de sire. Autumn ! bringing to old adventures death, Sadness at all things past, things passing still, Touching all earth with strange and mystic breath, Veiling all earth in fire ere winter kill; Even this youth felt now his deep heart fill With a grey tide of mystery and sadness, Poignant sorrow for all past hours of glad ness . . . Those times would others come as keen as they? ROMANCE 135 Was life to come as living as life past? Ah, he was youth, life could not say him nay, The blood sang swift in him, doubt could not last; Let all life dead beneath his feet be cast And he would trample it, divinely singing: Life lay before, more rapturous music bring ing! More lusts, more shining eyes, more dizzy laughter, More, madder music, flute and violin, With drums before and roses showered after, Always in new bliss drowning his old sin; Sin? Was it that? And straight in merry din Of song and shout and laugh this thought was lost; It was no sin to live, whate er the cost! . . . 136 ROMANCE High overhead the Brooklyn bridges passed, Span upon span and rumorous with cars, Their shadows on the deck a moment cast, With dizzy thunder from their traffic s wars; Those grey stone piers would soon be crowned with stars, Even now their brows were soft with waning sun; The homeward march of armies was begun. Good-bye, old bridges! And New York, good-bye! Northward the engines took him; now no more His gaze hung here ; he watched the western sky Blazing with vision-isles and faery shore; Northward the vibrant ship beneath him bore; The Sound spread out before them, wide and blue, ROMANCE 137 Clean came the wind whereon the sea-gulls flew . . . Soft fields, the flaming trees, a twilight farm . . . New York was gone. He drew deep breaths of air, Keen as keen fire it was ; then slow and calm, He turned to walk . . . when lo, a girl came there, Deep sunset in her eyes and on her hair, Her white dress clinging to her knees, one hand Rising to shade her blue eyes; as she scanned The swiftly gliding shore, the passing ships. The bell-buoys, bobbing and tolling in the tide . . . A moment, breath hung lifeless on his lips, His heart froze quiet; no one was at her side; 138 ROMANCE Faintly, he smiled; he thought her eyes re plied, Remote lights meeting in them, quicken ing; He passed, and all his body seemed to sing . . . He passed, then turned; and, as he turned, she turned, Her eyes met his eyes shyly, then again She looked away, and all her soft face burned, And all her virgin heart was big with pain. From the saloon below came soft a strain Of some new rag-time, bidding feet to move, Imploring hands to cling, young hearts to love . . . Sweetly it came, seductive, soft, bizarre, Huddled and breathless now, now note by note ROMANCE 139 Crying its separate pain . . . now near, now far ... Mingled with all the throbbing of the boat. How beautiful ! the first star came, to float Impalpable in dusk ; low in the east ; It seemed to sing on when the music ceased. Herald of love, lo, love itself it seemed, Singing into the twilight of her soul . . . How beautiful! . . . across dark waters gleamed Red lights and green, she heard a bell-buoy toll Suddenly caught in the after-wash s roll; A smell of autumn fires came down the wind ; Beauty so keen it seemed it must have sinned . . . What was this night, what did it bring to her, What flower unfolded in its darkness now? 140 ROMANCE She was this night; she felt her deep soul stir, The slow strange stir of blossoms in the bough . . . How beautiful! She watched the forefoot plough Sheer through the foaming black, the white waves gliding Dizzily past, now swelling, now subsiding . . . Youth, music, sweet wizardry Of young life sung like fire through beating veins! O covering darkness and persuasive sea! night of stars, of blisses and of pains ! But most, O Youth, that but an hour re mains, Be fierce, be sweet with us before you go ; For, knowing you, the best of life we know. Enchanted so she watched dark waters slip ping ROMANCE 141 Swiftly and dizzily past the sheer black side, Watched the fierce wind in sudden flurries whipping The torn spray from the waves, against the tide; High among stars she saw the mast-head glide, Steadily now, now swinging slowly, slightly, There the high mast-head lantern burning brightly . . . O Youth, O music, sweet wizardry, covering darkness of mysterious night! She turned; along the dark deck, quietly, He came again ; an open door shed light Strongly across him for a space, then fright Suddenly set her wild heart beating, beat ing, Suddenly set her endlessly repeating I mustn t speak! I mustn t speak! And then 142 ROMANCE He stood beside her, close and warm and strong, And she knew sudden the beauty that s in men, And all her blood flew musical with song . . . 1 Beautiful, isn t it. Have you known it long? Calmly he looked at her, and gently spoke. She nodded, lightly; then the warm words broke Easily, quickly, fervently from her heart, All the restraint of all her youth was gone, She felt a thousand warm new instincts start Out of her soul, birds taking wing with dawn, Singing their hearts out . . . With a deep breath drawn, Yes! I ve known it for years, and loved it, too; Beautiful! This is this the first for you? ROMAXCE 143 They talked, in low tones; and the sound of sea, Falling of foam and swish of dropping spray, Encircled them with song, incessantly; They felt alone, the world seemed far away. They two ! they two ! so seemed the night to say; A darkness and a stealing fragrance came Spreading through all their souls, silent as flame . . . beauty of being a living thing, she thought, Of drawing breath beneath these stars, this sky! beautiful fire that from his eyes she caught, That made her breath rise quick, her lips burn dry! What was this thing? Dread came, she scarce knew why, Impulsively she went; yet she had given 144 ROMANCE Her word to dine with him, her earth was heaven. He watched her go, and smiled, her white dress blowing Softly in dark, so young, so sweet, so brave ! She was so pure ! by God, there was no know ing, And he had half a mind, still, to behave . . . No, though: far better take what fortune gave, Dance to the music that was played for him ; Smiling he mused of her, his eyes grew dim, And he could feel her warmness by his side, And all his body flushed with sweet desire To take her shining loveliness for bride, To kiss, to fuse with her in single fire . . . O youth, young heart musical as a lyre! covering darkness of mysterious night! ROMANCE 145 He knew these things; his heart was filled with light . . . What was one more? Pah, how he scorned this qualm! Innocent? Such girls seem but never are. No, he was not her first . . . And cold and calm He turned and sought the brightly-lighted bar . . . The music rose, through shut doors, faint and far, Wailful . . . Down in her stateroom mirror there A young girl eyed herself, with frightened stare. II. She eyed herself with quick breath, fright ened stare, 146 ROMANCE The fingers of one hand caught at her throat, And half unconsciously she smoothed her hair . . . The music called to her, bizarre, remote . . . On a vast hurrying tide she seemed afloat, Hurrying through a darkness downward ever, Starless, along some subterranean river . . . Where was she going? Where was the cur rent taking? Vaguely she knew that it would lead to pain, To a dark endless pain her deep heart break ing, To a grey world forever dulled with rain . . . And yet she knew this would not come again, And all the sweet bliss came imploring, plead ing, Melting her soul, bruising her heart to bleed ing ... O God, she did not know! Yet future sor row ROMANCE 147 Seemed somehow paid for by this instant bliss, A brief to-day was worth a long to-morrow ; youth, night, this joy she dared not miss! Her whole soul yearned for this young lover s kiss, Though it be paid for through eternity. 0, had not God designed this thing to be? Was not her mouth for this young mouth in tended, Since all her living body told her so? Was it not preordained that so be ended A girlhood colder than December snow? A starlight kiss she need no further go : His warm hands touching hers: O was this sin? Just this? She shut her eyes to fires with in . 148 ROMANCE To those fierce central fires she closed her eyes, Yet dimly of their passion was aware, And felt their flames like drunkenness arise Whirling her soul, making life strangely fair . . . She eyed herself with held breath, frightened stare . . . Alas, was it the alchemy of sin That made her lovelier far than e er she d been? Plausibly sweet the music came to her, Through many doors, most plausible and sweet, Setting some subtle pulse in her astir, Smoothing in song her heart s erratic beat. Dizziness came, unstrung her knees, her feet, And she sank down a space upon her bed, Shutting her eyes, mad reelings in her head. ROMANCE 149 How would this end? And would her whole life change. Swayed by this mastering sun as sways the moon? Would all her way of life be new and strange, Her friends be lost, her kin desert her soon? Passion surged up in her, and in its swoon These doubts were swept aside, obscure and fleeting ; Somewhere she heard a beating . . . beating . . . beating . . . Was it her heart, the loud pulse in her ear, Or music, some recurring undertone? The drums perhaps . . . She raised her head to hear, The beating ceased . . . Only the tireless drone Of toiling engines, and the sea s hushed moan Soft through the fast-shut port . . . and that was all. 150 ROMANCE Steps passed and re-passed down the muffled hall. Steps passed and re-passed on the deck above Ringing like iron . . . The curtains by her bed Quivered forever to the engine s move, And from the lamp a quivering light was shed. These senseless things, when all her life was dead, Would still go on: steps pass, the curtains quiver, These things or others, they would last for ever. Quickly she rose, and in the mirror s shine Looked at herself a quiet moment s space ; It was as if the earth s autumnal wine Had touched her soul, her body had a grace That passing life has, lovely was her face ROMANCE 151 With a strange loveliness, and in her eyes Was the deep glory of October skies. She was alive! her blood flew warm and young; No more than this she knew, that she was fair; And happiness through her deep heart was sung, Passionate joy as light as flame in air; O youth ! love, oblivious of all care ! O lithe swift-blooded youth, O rose of earth, O warm-eyed loveliness of fragrant mirth! Giddy, with whirling thoughts, she left her room; And down the corridor, with fainting feet, Lightly she went, caught onward to sweet doom, And only heard her heart s loud tremulous beat; 152 ROMANCE Through opening doors, most plausible, most sweet, The music rose to her ; and he stood there, Smiling, in all that noise and whir and glare . . . Over the shining silver, sparkling glass, The smooth white table-cloth, he leaned and smiled ; The whole world vanished, they were lad and lass, In love, and face to face, hearts running wild. Deep in her eyes he looked : what a child ! Her soft breast rose and fell, her throat s pure white Beat with a little pulse of joy and fright. No need to talk . . . For in their eyes they met, Treading an air so soft, so light, so fine, ROMANCE 153 That they were speechless, words they could forget; They only smiled, and shyly sipped their wine, And smiled again, and felt their full hearts shine, Talked breathlessly a little, and longed to lean Nearer, more near, till no mote lay be tween, Not light or darkness, world or heaven or star, Not wind, nor warm, nor cold . . . but just they two Meeting at last, two spirits come from far, Face raised to face, white flowers made sweet with dew, Shining and passionate, and young and new, Their two warm bodies singing each to each, 154 ROMANCE Mingling at last in love s harmonious speech . . . The lights, the noise, the tumult passed away; As in a dream without a sound they passed; She only knew that it was wildly gay, And shy, and bliss unbearable ... At last Under the high dark starward-gliding mast In grateful night they sat; he brought her coat And trembling wrapped the scarf around her throat ; Letting his fingers linger there a space, Longer than there was need, so sweet she smiled, So close they were to that soft wistful face . . . The stars looked down upon them, clear and mild . ROMANCE 155 Woman and maiden, girl, and little child, She was all these ... A moment, he was shaken, Lest he do wrong, lest he might prove mis taken . . . Only a moment . . . passion rose again, Quiet he took her hand and held it long, And all her virgin heart grew big with pain, And all her new-born body ached with song. Blindly she prayed to God to make her strong, More blindly cried to earth to make her weak ; And looked at him, near tears, and could not speak. He was a loveliness she could not bear . . . Like a fierce furnace seemed his beauty now . 156 ROMANCE A fire that caught her throat, her lips, her hair, Her parching eyes, her pained and beating brow. Only to give herself, she cared not how, Into the flame, body and soul to fling; To have him hurt her, ah, divinest thing! . . . Four bells were struck: twas ten o clock he said ; And still the sea rushed past, under the night. The engines toiled and the great steamer sped; And they could see the bow- wash, dimly white, Fall into darkness ever; the mast-head light Quivered among the stars, and in its fire A span of fore-stay shone like golden wire . ROMANCE 157 Little by little they were left alone, The decks were emptied ; only, from the bar, Came shouts and laughter, and a drunkard s groan, And glasses clinking, and a strummed guitar. The door shut, and the sounds grew faint and far, And all the deck was dark ; only the sea Lifted its great voice, like infinity. O youth, O music, O sweet wizardry Of young love sung like fire through beating veins ! O covering darkness and persuasive sea ! night of stars, of blisses and of pains! But most, youth that but an hour re mains, Be fierce, be sweet with us, before you go ; For knowing you the best of life we know ! Beneath his kiss her mouth rose soft and warm, 158 ROMANCE And dewy soft as rose-leaves were her eyes, Under his hands, shaken as with a storm He felt her soft breast fall and shudder and rise, Torn with impassioned breath, unuttered cries ; Quivering, straining breast against his breast, She clung to him, her mouth on his mouth pressed . . . And only Imew that this was life at last, Forgot all else in agony of bliss ; Into this fire of love all earth was cast; The stars, the sea, were mingled in this kiss. And through her heart the blood, with sing and hiss, Poured a red madness, surged a riotous pain, Unbearable music cried out in her brain . . . ROMANCE 159 love/ he said, let me come with you! I love you so! This night, let me come ! Ah God have pity ! she knew not what to do, But sat all quiet, frozen, shrinking, dumb; And only heard the toiling engines hum, The rush of sea, the swish of dropping spray, Her clamorous heart; and all that she could say Was a quick y es / an d then a broken breath That quivered like a sob ; and then she rose, Dizzy and weak and pale, like one near death, And now her heart was fire, and now it froze . . . Faint in her room she stood; the door to close, She might still turn the key . . . She cried a space, 160 ROMANCE Long in the glass stared at her pallid face . . . And heard a step tramp over the deck above, Ringing like iron . . . The curtains by her bed Quivered forever to the engine s move, And from the lamp a quivering light was shed . . . These things would all go on when she was dead . . . Trembling, with misty eyes, she loosed the pin Under her throat . . . mad fires whirled up within . . . Mad fires whirled up, engulfing all her soul ; Beyond the sun and stars, across all space, Power that earth nor heaven could now con trol, ROMANCE 161 She heard her lover come, with quickening pace; Nowhere to hide! Alas, his shining face, Though she hid under seas would find her there, Though she hid under mountains lay her bare! Across the stars, nearer, more near it came, And now earth shook with it, and now the sea, And her white body, tremulous with shame, From its sheer anguish knew that it was he, Yearned for this wonder that was soon to be ; And all her heart made music for his feet, All of the world re-echoed to their beat . . . Marriage of youth! And quick a darkness fell, 162 ROMANCE And time and space went down, consumed in fire; Through that dark space, only one breath, to tell That here was youth, and love, and wild de sire: One heart that to itself sang ever higher, Tremulous, passionate, despite all pain, How wonderful! how wonderful! again. III. October earth, with scarlet maple leaf, With oak-leaves brown, with flaming leaves and pale; Mysterious autumn, symbol of all grief, Symbol of lives that die and hopes that fail : Now on the threshing-floor has fallen the flail, The hands are elsewhere that have stored the grain ; ROMANCE 163 Now comes the season of snows and bitter rain. Weeks passed . . . And then one day there came a note To New York for this youth ... he tore and read. It was that girl he played with on the boat . . . Scarcely three shaky lines ... in which she said, That she was sick with typhoid, nearly dead, Wanted to say she loved him ; then she cried, God, if he would come before she died! Loved him! ... a blackness fell; and in his eyes, So long unused, and even now ashamed, He felt the warm tears quickening to rise . 164 ROMANCE Loved him! he had not known . . . Could he be blamed? Then a great light of sorrow in him flamed, And bitterness, his sight swam quickly dim, Thinking how little it had meant to him! Scarce knowing why, he packed his things and went . . . He was surprised, on seeing her, to find How lovely she had been, though pale and spent . . . He sat beside her, striving to be kind, Stroking her forehead . . . Yet, she had di vined, And known too bitterly, before she died, This man had never loved her, but had lied And he knew this: he knew that she had known ; ROMANCE 165 In her dark eyes he saw the mastered yearn ing, All the unspoken love that died in moan, Shrunk on itself, through all her body burn- . ing ... And many days the memory came returning Of her last kiss, quivering, wet with tears, Her clinging hands, her brimmed eyes dark with fears . . . Until at times a sudden terror came Lest, through great pity, he should love one dead, So burning sweet recurred in him this shame, So haunted him those eyes, that fallen head ; The lips that pleaded so, the words she said, Pathetic words! these haunted him a space; Then, in the dark of time he lost her face . . . 166 ROMANCE Autumn! bringing to old adventures death, Sadness at all things past, things passing still, You touched this love with strange and dreadful breath ; Easy as leaf is human love to chill, Easy as leaf is human love to kill ; Yet beautiful is that death with sudden flame, Ere it goes down to darkness, whence it came! . EARTH TEDIUM. I. IF part of earth, I am a sullen part, A note discordant in her harmony; For I cry out against her ceaselessly, And bear a separate music in my heart; Or if in truth my soul was born of earth, Most strange that being her offspring I should hate Her who in anguish opened wide the gate To blinding light of sun, the gate of birth ! Only in autumn do I feel with her; As fall her leaves, so fall the leaves in me, In borrowed splendor, dropping wearily, Back to the dust wherefrom she bade them stir. Why did she wake, why bade she them to rise? 167 168 EARTH TEDIUM What joy had they of life? Dream you they heard The cry of wind, or song of any bird: Felt gratitude for rains or sunny skies? Ah, I have often envied them for this: They had no sorrows though they had no bliss. II. For us, her special tortures were prepared ; Ah sorceress ! through our unhappy veins Music of intermingled loves and pains Slowly she breathed; nor have we since been spared. May she have joy of us, so she desire ! And what escape? For her all life is sport; No matter what illusions we may court, For you she scorns your glee, for me, my ire. Shall I make brave sweet praise of life to sing? EARTH TEDIUM 169 Lo, with her terrible mirth she shakes high heaven ; Shall I cry out against this life I m given? Or sulk? No odds, she revels in the thing! Yea, even if in my desperate plight I cry Earth has no soul, no sense, and knows us not, Or if she ever knew us has forgot/ Still am I conscious of a leering eye. falling leaves, let me go down with you To lie insensible in dust and dew ! III. Still, if she laughs whichever way we take, Methinks it were the shrewder thing to go Such path as, wisely followed, brings least woe, Dreaming some dream least likely to awake. Smiles she? I care not. You exist not, Earth! 170 EARTH TEDIUM Man is the thing: Most grave, most sure is he; What pleasures him, will it not pleasure me? So; I will sift the fine gold from his mirth. Come, man! explain yourself to nakedness, Tell me what wondrous ways you get your bliss! I fear there is some mystery in this: For what seems more to him, to me seems less. Lack I some precious thing, some inward fire, Or have I too much light? Behold, a doubt. Here is a music makes him sing and shout And makes me weep; his fear is my desire. Man has great depths. . . . Methinks, then, I ll go down And find his soul. . . Who knows? . . . and find a clown. EARTH TEDIUM 171 IV. Yet if of earth, and if a sullen part; Though I cry out against her ceaselessly; Still do I find my life sweet harmony, And bear a luminous music in my heart; And I have laughed these many times this day At my poor brain, sad with eternal toil, That, darkling, slowly digs in barren soil, While birds sing, and my heart is out at play. Poor anguished laborer! I love you well. Most shrewd are you; your lightnings have laid bare Man s littleness to me, and your despair; Your speech is wondrous, though you speak of hell. Most shrewd, most cruel to man, to me, to earth ; 172 EARTH TEDIUM Keen hands that spare no blossom, rip all bloom ; Yet I have laughed to see you ache with doom, When all the while my heart, of other birth, Had fled far from your darkness and your rain, Into the world to see the sun again. V. Shall I drain all my pulses for my song, As poets do who squeeze their poor hearts white, Bloodless and mute, (so they may only write,) Bartering all their flesh for one sweet tongue? Twere folly thus; they slay the self-same joy EARTH TEDIUM 173 That moved their hearts to sing; so will not I; Rather, rejoice in this high autumn sky, Greedy of pleasures as a thoughtless boy. Rather, go walk the hills in whirling sun, In dancing moon, in blowing leaves and grass; Watching sad autumn with her death-fires pass, And winter skies grow grey, and earth grow dun; And love her well whom blessed fate has given, Take, uncomplaining, daily joy and pain, Bending my dripping face, if it should rain, To lift it high again when stars take heaven. And, living so, my heart will sing, meseems, Sweet of his own accord, undrugged by dreams. 174 EARTH TEDIUM VI. Is not the poet he who loves earth best, Who knows her wisest, deepest, who, her child, Dreamily with her moods has wept and smiled, Waking and sleeping ever at her breast? Not he, forsooth, who walks aloof, apart, Looking askance at her. ... hapless brain, It is your madness that has brought me pain, Weaning my heart from earth, its mother- heart. No more this land of mist and dark and cold ! No more these doubtings and this deep dis may! Into the sun we go once more to play, My heart is young, although my brain be old. He cannot sing of life who lives so little: EARTH TEDIUM 175 Who loves not, hates not; come then, love and hate, While youth sings sweet, before it be too late, Young eyes will pearl, and bones too soon are brittle; falling leaves, my heart goes out to you, 1 live, while you go down to dust and dew! , VII. You stars that shine this night so cold and clear, This autumn night, while fitful winds are blowing ; Cold moon, across whose face wild clouds are flowing, Or swimming in an open azure space ; You stricken leaves, to whom this night brings death, 176 EARTH TEDIUM Burned by this frost, and by this wind blown down, Yellows and reds that soon will be but brown, Wearied with rains, now palsied at a breath ; All things deciduous that fall away, When seasons change and generous suns are gone; All things that droop with night, that lift with dawn, All things that stay, or only seem to stay; You moon decadent, and you waning sun, To whom will yet succeed more suns and moons; You seas that ebb and flow by barren dunes, Whose flowing and whose ebbing soon are done: All ye, bear witness: though my days be few, Greatly I live, who shared one birth with you! EARTH TEDIUM 177 VIII. Bear witness, Earth, that I have loved you well, Before my brain grew arrogant and proud ; I was a part of wind and star and cloud, Most sweet and earthly did my young heart smell. Most sweet and earthly! Sweet as woods of fir, As gentle clover fields that drowse in sun; Keen as the winds that over cold seas run, Pure as the breath that blows from Alpine spur! Have I not tip-toed like a summer air Into your roses, nor disturbed their sleep? Yet tryst with terrible typhoon could I keep, Whitening seas and laying green earth bare. I have been seed, and drunk of sun and rain ; Felt the sure creeping bliss of opening flower ; 178 EARTH TEDIUM Flared up and blackened under autumn s power; Frozen in sod, been stretched in moveless pain. All these and more I ve been, in grief and mirth : Yea, I have loved you well, bear witness, Earth! IX. True song, meseemeth, is but happiness, And he that sings of grief sings not at all; Let him make moan, like sere leaf let him fall; But we need tune of joy, of hardiness. youth! you are the sweetest song of earth, Her heart s true music; prithee stay with me; Though I grow old still let me youthful be, Let my grey ashes glow with central mirth. EARTH TEDIUM 179 And let a warmth be ever in my eyes, Nor the sure snows of winter slake their fire, Let them be bright with ever young desire; I would be glad, let other men be wise! Pale leaves, although your burying time is near, Though wild winds whirl you, yet be not dis mayed : You shall again make green some sunny glade, You shall make glee with moon another year ! True song is this ; I flout the cynic brain, Saying, "like these dead leaves, I live again!" X. Pitiless rain, that, ceaseless, all night long Unwearying, beatest on this world like pain- Pelting dead leaves till they would go in sane 180 EARTH TEDIUM If they had soul, or ear to hear your song: O heartless rain! how like man s grief you are, How like untoward fortune, desperate fate, That beats him down in blindness, not in hate, And all unwitting crushes his life s star! From grey sky falling, purposeless as grief, Falling forever, needless, born of chance, Without a soul, most desolately you dance, Making a night-long dirge on bough and leaf. And like a dead leaf all night long I ve lain Borne down by you and powerless to rise, And felt you tireless beating on my eyes, And on my naked heart your pattering pain. Whence came you, from what sadness were you born, Symbol of all that s mournful and for lorn? EARTH TEDIUM 181 XI. A world of paradox! Lo, in all sorrow Some sweetness lurks, and laughter in all tears ; And often he desires who also fears, And pain of bliss and bliss of pain do bor row; Man s soul, meseems, was under April skies Engendered; mixture strange of green and grey, The wayward wonder-child of March and May, Black rains, bright sun, and tears in laugh ing eyes. And this cold vale, shrinking beneath a cloud, Grown old with fear, lo, in a moment s space, Lifts to the hurried sun a mirthful face, 182 EARTH TEDIUM Out of the darkness shining, sweet and proud. And this rain, now, that pitiless, heartless seems, Pelting dead leaves, beating earth s bosom bare, Mingles a song of love with its despair, And where it wounds instils a breath of dreams ; Love has its secret sadness, like this rain, And in all fruitfulness there lurks a pain. INNOCENCE. LET me be always one with earth Who bade her music through me run, Who through my veins poured singing mirth, Made me a dancer in her sun! Out of her living dust she made, The dust that once was leaves and trees; Grey dust of roses long decayed, Still warm with life of birds and bees; The dust of grass, the dust of clover, High forests that have long been dead, And dust of many a laughing lover, Whose songs are running in my head. . . All that earth has been, all she is, Her musics and her ecstasies, Cold winter rains, warm rains of spring, And the slow sun that makes her sing, 183 184 INNOCENCE I know them all, all earth s in me, I am earth s child, and I am earth; At one with her in grief and glee, I dream, with her, through death and birth. While I am living, give me speech Unconscious as the song of birds, So I may sing earth s praise, and teach Her beauty, though in broken words; When I am dead, let leaf and bough, And small grass, and anemone, Have this sweet life that I have now: Earth, bid your lovers rise from me! SOPHISTICATION. THIS man, I thought, had come too far From the warm sunrise of his birth, For he had followed and lost a star, And now he had no love for earth; But with pale face and empty eyes, Listless, as all who ve grown too wise, With a sad absent step he came, And loved no thing and loved no man; No youth-fire through his spirit ran, His light was but a candle flame. I watched him like a lost soul meet The living crowds that filled the street, And he looked upon them hungrily, And sought their faces wistfully, As if to say, it is not much, I only ask of you a touch; For they were warmer, he divined, 185 186 SOPHISTICATION Their hearts were young, while his was old, Their hands were warm, while his were cold, Their souls were fire-light, bright and kind. Only to pass them in the street, These humbler folk who never thought, Some wonder in his spirit wrought, His heart re-heard some ancient beat. And he had fleeting glimpse of sun, A moment saw the splendor run Between bright edges of the grey, Whirled in a space of dazzling blue, The sky he d known in childhood s day Ere wisdom s sunless heaven he knew. . . Then to his soul, a twilight room, Returning, he would sit in gloom; Musing his life, his time away Slow night by night, dim day by day. Through this grey spirit s twilight air I think there often rose a prayer, Unspoken, uttered without words, SOPHISTICATION 187 Unconscious as the speech of birds, A prayer, and yet to no god made, Since of no god was he afraid; To his own soul, perhaps, addressed; Or Earth, to take him to her breast And warm him there, in sun, in rain, In wind, in cold, in blight of stars, To give him life, with bliss and pain, To make new blood beat in old scars: So he might feel with death and birth, Be moved to dance with morning-mirth, Laugh in the sun, be sad with rains, And feel earth stirring in his veins; Feel wind on bough blow cool or warm, And old leaves torn away by storm, Feel cold rain-bubbles round a root, And sun take dew from April shoot. . . In apathy his feet had moved, He never hated, never loved; One by one and silently The few who knew and loved him died, 188 SOPHISTICATION Went seaward with the quiet tide, Passed into greyness, quietly, And left behind no hurt in him, Nor left his searching eyes more dim. For they had died like winter s grass, The new would come, the old must pass. In youth, he loved philosophy, He learned its sad satiety; And with a grey net, dreamlike fine, He netted moon and star and sun, The universe; but ah, that done, He found his caught stars would not shine. Caught sun and earth had ceased their song, Too late he learned that truth is wrong When it takes sunlight out of things, And that the snared bird never sings. . . Too late he learned this, too late knew Philosophy is only true When it sings out of brimful mirth, Perfumed and flower-like out of earth, SOPHISTICATION 189 theory only then is truth When it is youth s own praise of youth. Life is not earth s life, when it turns Against itself with morbid knife, Only the dim towards dimness yearns, That life is sick that questions life; And this he knew, but knew too late, For he had passed through wisdom s gate And seen of what stuff life is made, The thin web woven out of dust, Destroyed then by a foolish gust, Dust in blossom and dust decayed, Endless and aimless. . . . Come so far In search of truth s ignoble star He faltered, turned, and ah, would then Have fain been even as other men, Dreamless and thoughtless, wise in mirth, Wise in ignorance, roots of earth; Taking their lives of kiss and pain As calm trees take the sun and rain; Taking their daylight seriously, 1 90 SOP HI STIC A TION Wise, in their fools serenity. But who has seen truth through his brain Hardly shall he return again To live in senses, nothing more; A hollow sea-shell flung ashore, Life has no use for him, nor sings Her warm song in him, he is sped; He hears the lost sea s murmurings, A ghost wind roaring through his head, But that is all, he cannot move, He dreams, but cannot hate or love. All this he knew in bitterness, And strove with in his loneliness. Of truth a little cell he made Wherein from year to year he stayed ; Seeing, through one bright window s space The moon and all the stars go by, And Earth, a young and lovely place, And bright sun, swimming in bright sky. Once he had known it, that was past; SOPHISTICATION 191 Now in a cell had he been cast, His cunning brain had built dark bars Between him and the specious stars. His greatest sorrow, I think, was this: To know that earth, however sweet Her memory came to him, to meet And give him her maternal kiss, Could never satisfy again His merciless thrice-accursed brain ; He could look back and see her fair, Yet knew he d sorrow were he there. A long while he had hoped, I think, That some day he might deeply drink Love from a woman s living mouth And so put end to this long drouth. He had looked much on lips and eyes, And hungered for this miracle; Alas, he knew this sham too well, He was too scrupulously wise. All magic but illusion is, 192 SOPHISTICATION Illusion are love s ecstasies, He saw too keenly, drove away This magic by the light of day. . . And though perhaps the woman came Destined by earth to set him free, His cold soul could not kindled be, % He saw the texture of the flame. His mouth to hers he may have pressed, Searched eyes, and yearned to be at rest; But he saw keenly, drove away This magic by bright light of day. . . How often, in what sordid ways, How pitiful, with wistful gaze, He sought for love, hoping to find Some human soul, some star-eyed face, Sweetly to capture him and bind, And give his soul a resting-place! Some girl, some woman, magic-sweet, With shining face and dancing feet, Laughing, untameable and wild, Heedless and thoughtless, earth s true child, SOPHISTICATION 193 So living, and so wisely young, With such sweet music on her tongue, That he might cease to be so wise And learn earth s passion at her eyes! And the young harlots in the street, These he followed with timid feet, And the young maids who lit his gloom Singing and dusting in his room, He talked with, trembling, shy of face, Yearning for this imagined grace. . . Yearning to have one thing to love, One face to make his still heart move, One face to die for, bid him ache, One heart to make his own heart break. . . Alas, if flame there was, he came Like salamander through that flame. He heard love speak the magic word, His heart was mute, it never stirred. And so, to ease his banishment, Wearily, year by year, he went 194 SOPHISTICATION To theatre, cinematograph, That haply he might cry or laugh, Or swiftly taken unaware Feel a cold horror creep his hair. Often he smiled his cynic smile; But felt well paid if every while Suddenly came a gust of grief Shaking his soul s trees, or a joy. . . Afterwards, laughter might destroy. . . But ah, what infinite relief! So came the years and took him then Quietly from the sight of men, Unwept, unmissed. . . At times it seemed, Or so he in his twilight dreamed, That on-e so utterly without breath, Unearthly even, might escape Earth s restless change, by men called death, And keep forever one grey shape. . . Now he is dead. So, every day, SOPHISTICATION 195 Too subtle musing leads astray. This man, I thought, had come too far From the warm sunrise of his birth ; For he had followed and lost a star, And then, had no more love for earth. LAUGHTER. (Youth Speaks to His Own Old Age.) You, whom these eyes, no longer mine, Shall see in the mirror s flash and shine, Meagre of face and pale of cheek, Pale mouth, and lines that sadness speak: All the grey shipwreck of this me Who look upon you and laugh for glee, Mocking at you, poor feeble thing, You word that s uttered, you tune that s played, You body shrunken, you soul decayed, You heart that whispers but cannot sing: You, when you walk abroad in sun, Blinking at last for the too much light, Scorning the young life that can run, Scorning the fierce life that can fight, 196 LAUGHTER 1Q7 And drooling wisdom day by day, Presuming, you, to point the way: Here are my eyes upon you, now, Colder than stars to sear your brow, Here is my hand upon your hand, A stronger grip than yours can stand, Here are my words, so cruelly true, If you be false, they are stones for you. . . And because you are feeble, a crawling thing, Walking by walls to hold and cling, With terror of darkness on your breath, And terror lest you be dead, with death: Catching perhaps at straws of faith, Drunk with religion in hope to drown These maddening truths that will not down, Clutching philosophy s vapid wraith: Here is my perfect scorn for you, The scorn from youth to old age due, Merciless laughter, sharp as knife, The egotistical laugh of life. I hold my sides! let truth be said, 198 LAUGHTER Twere better if things like you were dead. For I have strength to face this earth, I am risen warm and strong from birth, I am song, I am love, I am bitter hate, The laughter of speed that will not wait. Nature is hard, but hard am I, The hard will live, the soft must die: And I who am nature know this truth, The soul of nature s soul is youth. If you deny me, turn to shame, Or pity me, forego my name; For youth is right, and age is wrong You but a prayer, while I am song ! The weak hates strong: you will hate me, And war upon me, with cunning wiles, Pity me, with indulgent smiles, And shrug your shoulders paternally. Mad youth! you ll murmur how mad * it is! He must indulge his ecstasies! LAUGHTER 1Q9 Youth is a madness, it will pass, The fever of blood, the mad blind eyes His stars will burn him, he ll grow wise, The years bring calm to lad and lass. And what we thought so fine in youth Was at the most but half of truth, For truth is not of youth or age, But sum of life s whole pilgrimage, The young men s visions, the old men s dreams, The passion of days, the thought of years; Age s cautions, and youth s extremes; Laughter is life no more than tears. Youth sings, "the height of life is youth, All after that is retrograde, The music falters, the flowers fade, And falsehood masquerades as truth." Youth sings, "Age hath no right to speak, Nature abhors him, he is weak, But youth is right, for youth is strong, Youth is the young earth s bridal-song!" 200 LAUGHTER I was a young man once, myself, Youth, I can sympathize with you; I speak impartially from my shelf Truth lies half way between the two. Youth scorns old age, well, youth is right, That is youth s nature; age scorns youth, Age too is just; each sees the light As nature grants, and each sees truth. . . For truth is not of youth or age, But sum of life s whole pilgrimage, A wonder of many wonders wrought, Blended of passion and of thought; And so, young man, we ll compromise : Each of us, in our way, is wise! Thus you will speak, cunning one, Warming your cold hands in the sun; Squinting your eyes in too bright light, Shielding your face s sickly white. However weak, life fends for self, Thus you, old ghost! you shuffling trimmer! LAUGHTER 201 You speak impartially from your shelf? You clutch at rays, for the light grows dim mer. This much I ll not begrudge you, then Go, justify yourself to men, With powers of darkness come to terms Lest you turn sick with dread of worms. But, for the hard work of my brain, Hands off! your yellow hands would stain. Our best work, youth s! one finger mars; If you must loathe it, or disclaim, I beg you, then, forego my name, Else, die, mid laughter from the stars! And yet, what s life? Come, here s my hand. For at the last, I see it well, Age were not age unless it fell, And crawls because it cannot stand. I pity you, I laugh at you, Yet to your years I see you true, Truer than if, with rigid thought, 202 LAUGHTER Your age to ghost of youth you wrought. Poor soul! go, make your peace with death, And warm your heart with a shibboleth! Yes, you will hate, despise my work, How else? But here s my laughing dirk, Here I have snared you, all complete, Your pitiful pale hands, struggling feet; If you breathe poison on my art Here is my poniard, here your heart ! . . . Because you are aged, senile, lamed, For this, man, you shall not be blamed, Though youth must smirk old age to see, And merriment bubbles up in me; But if with hand that smears and mars You touch our best work, yours and mine, Then comes my laughter from earth and stars, Youthful and cruel, wild, divine! YOUTH IMPERTURBABLE. LET me not shrink at sight of death, Nor waste in grief an idle breath. . . You whom I loved are one with clay, The brightness in your eyes is gone, I shall not meet your face to-day; Your day is done, while mine goes on. . . Why pity you? You had your fling; You had your chance to dance and sing, To love, to hate, to kiss, to kill, To laugh and cry and drink your fill: Now it is ended: so comes end To every lover, every friend; The lips turn white, the warm eyes glaze, The music-box no longer plays, And so we hide you under earth And laugh to sun our wonted mirth. . . 203 204 YOUTH IMPERTURBABLE Let me not shrink at sight of death, Nor waste in grief an idle breath. . . This buried something is it you? Is this decay the man I knew? You, whose hand was warm in mine, Whose eyes I saw with music shine, Who laughed with me and walked with me, And in your grave way scolded me? Well, and so fares it with us all, When autumn comes the leaf must fall, Nor shall I dusk one single day By mourning for what now is clay. One of my joys is haply dead, One song is sung, one word is said, One laughter dies and leaves behind Only an echo in my mind. . . Let me not shrink : I will be stern. For better or worse you had your turn. Grief for the dead is foolish grief, A childish thing, a selfish thing, YOUTH IMPERTURBABLE 205 One voice cannot for always sing, Even for us is pleasure brief; Nor can our tears and temper stay The hand that snatches joy away. For you, your golden sun has set, But I have much to laugh at yet. Let me not shrink at sight of death Nor waste in grief an idle breath. . . Life is a dance; dance it then, You blind and fatuous hosts of men ! Lift your pale fa^es to the sun, And laugh and shout and sing and run ; While he is warm and bright and red Dance on the bodies of your dead, Life is the thing, the song of life, The eager plow, the thirsty knife! Exult, all sorrows past forget, Laugh, there is much to laugh at yet, Tear down the pallid things you hate, Rip open earth s heart for your mate! 206 YOUTH IMPERTURBABLE This buried something, is it you? Is this decay the man I knew? Here s nought but dirt here s nought but dust It has no gleam of laugh or lust, Nor does it say a word to me, Nor reach a warm hand up to me. Are you become but leaf and grass, Intricate roots that mat and mass And thirstily hold and suck the rain? Here for a half year you have lain, Quiet as earth is ... are you earth? Share you with her some secret mirth? Foolish of me to think you here, Where you were buried! . . . Now you are Diffused through all earth, everywhere, And look at me from every star. So will it be with me in time, Even for me this sun must set; But I am still in my laughing prime, I have much to laugh at yet! YOUTH PENETRANT. I SHALL grow calm in a little while, But now, youth yearns in me to laugh; Cruel as cinematograph I show life up to you . . . and smile. I shall be calm in a little space, The blood grows quieter with the years; I shall be tenderer, then, to tears, And look more kindly on life s face. Our hearts grow mellow nearing death Like apples touched with autumn breath ; When the dusk falls and day is done We look more wistfully on the sun, Loving his last warmth on our cheek; We can be kind when we are weak. I shall be calm in a little while, But now, youth yearns in me to laugh ; Cruel as cinematograph 207 208 YOUTH PENETRANT I show life up to you ... and smile. Merciless is this black and white, A cold inquisitorial light; Baleful, it makes all life seem base, Shows you the flesh of every face; Only the music makes it seem So brightly glamorous, so like dream. Let the musician cease to play, Here s naught but black and white and grey, Reality, cold, mechanical, The truth a hideous spectacle ! Cruel as cinematograph I show life up to you . . . and laugh; For that is youth s prerogative: To see life coldly through brave eyes, To strip life of its lovely lies, And, careless of the dead, to live. There is yet time, when I grow old, When the blood in me is slow and cold, To look on life with wistful gaze, To see life through a soft bright haze; YOUTH PENETRANT 200 Singing more sweetly, as they use Who are half death s, and hourly lose The light that fades from misting eyes, So, praise life in most passionate wise; For in their clouded minds they dream The whole day, though it was but dun, Made glorious by the death of sun, Death-fires the fires of life they deem. Through mist they wander, singing sweet; Singing of life to make them brave, They hear death digging each his grave, They feel his cold net touch their feet. . . Half-lives, they only half-life sing, The tender light their dim eyes see; They reach pale hands to earth and cling, Grief gives their song intensity. . . I shall be calm in a little while, But now, youth yearns in me to laugh : Cruel as cinematograph I show life up to you . . . and smile! PARASITICS: TO CERTAIN POETS. WHO are you, now, that thus presume To come with candle to my gloom? Think you your candle-tip can shine With more illustrious light than mine? Think you my fire sheds not so far, Was yours begotten of a star? Leave me: your face and eyes are pale, The faint words on your faint lips fail, There is no warm blood in your veins, You know no human joys and pains. Let him, him only, sing of life Who out of terrible triumph sings, Whose soul comes glittering like a knife, With savage laughter cuts and flings! Out of the livid soil he came, A naked shape as pure as flame, His hands are red with dust and death, 210 PARASITIC S: TO CERTAIN POETS 211 His eyes flash fires of loves and hates, For him the moon and sun are gates, There is deep music in his breath! This is the singer whom I love, Unto whose music I will move. Not he who sits till late at night And shivers in his candle-light, Shutting his eyes to this warm earth, Seeking for some far stranger birth. . . Under the twilight seas he goes. He weaves, fantastic, skull and rose. The sleet upon his window-pane Goading his flagging wits again Farther from earth and yet more far He dreams of haunted moon and star. . . Drunk is he in a hasheesh spell, Frenzied he sings of heaven and hell. . . Leave me. Your face and eyes are pale, The faint words on your faint lips fail, 212 PARASITICS: TO CERTAIN POETS There is no warm blood in your veins, You know no human joys and pains. ghostly shape ! I pity you. Nothing of life you ever knew. With wistful eyes you muse and dream And watch life s spectacle go by; Your heart will never laugh or cry, Things are not felt by you, but seem. As the fear-stricken ghost will run When cock shrills up the ruddy sun, So in the wholesome light of day Your tenuous substance melts away. . . You are a vampire, and are fed By kiss of those whose blood is red. Let me not hear your faint sweet tongue ! Such songs were better left unsung: Better the pale lips were not stirred For utterance of this febrile word. It is a strange, a ghastly thing PARASITICS: TO CERTAIN POETS 213 To hear a dead man softly sing Of roses long since turned to dust And loves that long since turned to lust; Of lutes that tuned some lost romance, Of broken hearts, of lovers dead, Of leaves upon the green grave shed Where come the gleeful rains to dance. . . Let me not hear your faint sweet tongue, Such songs were better left unsung. Have you had lovers in the night, Lovers as savage as the stars? Bears your pale heart the smouldering scars Of love that s cruel, love fanged to fight? Know you the mouth that hides a hiss, The Lamia s mouth that drinks a kiss Insatiable and languorous, The red mouth greedy still in sleep? Know you the love that s tyrannous, The taloned love that makes you weep? 214 PARASITICS: TO CERTAIN POETS Know you these things? . . . Ah, you have read In many a well-bound book instead. You have not loved! I know it well. You have no lore of love to tell, No lore of hate; you never thrilled In the warm blood of him you killed! . . Sometimes, perhaps, you cry or laugh, Moved by the cinematograph. . . But flesh and blood! You know them not; Only your little pallid dreams, Wan hopes and fears and color schemes, If you knew more, it is forgot. . . . . . Who are you, then, that thus presume To come with candle to my gloom? Think you your candle-tip can shine With more illustrious light than mine? Think you my fire sheds not so far? Was yours begotten of a star? I will not hear you. Leave me, then. Warm your heart in the world of men. PARASITICS: TO CERTAIN POETS 215 Learn to laugh and learn to cry, So, you may sing to us, by and bye ! O sun of morning, sun of eve, O brilliant noons of healthy eyes, Shrivel this ghost beneath bright skies, Consume him, lest he further grieve, With the almighty laugh of life, Dazzling and vibrant as a knife! Let him hear now his own heart sing, A terrible and triumphant thing, Masterful, tender, fierce and sweet, A heart of warm and cosmic beat! Let him see earth through eyes not dim, Let loves and hates be dear to him: Let him be stained with dust and death, Confess his kinship with the earth; He will be fired with mighty mirth, There will be music in his breath ! DILEMMA. I. NOT for the sordid do we seek, In the dark alleys of our earth, Nor yearn of ugliness to speak, To lift a song of gutter-mirth. But there is life in everything, It is of life that we must sing, And lo, from sordid and from base Passion can lift a shining face. Too long have we been fed on dreams, And strained our eyes for elfin gleams, And we have been content too long To close our eyes in making song, To sing of lives we never knew, Of lands we never suffered through. . 216 DILEMMA 217 II. Hirelings are we of the time. God pity us! For we must seek In city filth, in streets that reek, Dark inspiration for our rhyme. Lo, here are folk who day by day Weary their bodies just to live; They ask for song: what will you give? They want no song of far away. If you would please them, you must sing "This life of yours a lovely thing! The sun itself was not so sweet As this pervasive modern grey! You dance in such a charming way ! What need of wings since you have feet?" And we must lift a song to praise These feverish nights and sooty days, The anguish and the ugliness, The loves and hates of tired men, 218 DILEMMA So they may rise from weariness And take their daily work again. . . What we think beauty, truth, who cares? We must heal man of his despairs. So blame us not, earth s sons are we: Earth bids us sing a modern ditty, To hide the greyness of your city, To hide your modern misery; This life of yours a lovely thing! How it compels our hearts to sing! When we have sung you ll go your way, Complacent, for another day. Hirelings are we of the time. God pity us ! For we must seek In city filth, in streets that reek, Dark inspiration for our rhyme. III. And yet, from sordid and from base, Passion can lift a shining face. . . DILEMMA 219 And walking through a street at night I saw a jail in soft moonlight; And there, behind the chequered bars, A still shape came to look at stars. . . PHE following pages contain advertisements of a few of the Macmillan books on kindred subjects NEW POEMS AND PLAYS Poems. By JAMES STEPHENS, Author of "The Hill of Vision," "Insurrections," etc. Cloth, i2mo. It was as a poet that Mr. Stephens was first introduced to the readers f this country. Since the appearance of that initial volume Insurrections there has been published one other collection, The Hill of Vision. Discriminating readers of verse have seen combined in him a sense of the humorous, a keen appreciation of rhyme and rhythm, and above all a most engaging originality. This new volume is distinguished by variety in theme and treat ment and by those other qualities which have enhanced his popularity with a large and increasing audience. Van Zorn : A Comedy in Three Acts. By EDWIN A. ROBINSON. Cloth, i2mo. $1.25 net. This play makes delightful reading and introduces in the person of its author a playwright of considerable promise. Mr. Robinson tells a story that is largely humorous, one which by a clever arrangement of incident and skillful characterization arouses strongly the reader s curiosity and keeps it unsatisfied to the end. The dialogue is bright and the construction of the plot shows the work of one well versed in the technique of the drama. PUBLISHED BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York NEW POEMS AND PLAYS The Congo and Other Poems. By NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY. Cloth, i2mo. In the readings which he has given throughout the country Mr. Lindsay has won the approbation of the critics and of his au diences in general for the new verse form which he is employ ing. The wonderful effects of sound produced by his lines, their relation to the idea which the author seeks to convey and their marvelous lyrical quality are something, it is maintained, quite out of the ordinary and suggest new possibilities and new meanings in poetry. In this book are presented a number of Mr. Lindsay s most daring experiments, that is to say they were experiments when they were first tried; they have been more than justified by their reception. It is believed that the volume will be one of the most discussed of all the year s output. Borderlands and Thoroughfares. By WILFRID WILSON GIBSON, Author of "Daily Bread," "Fires," "Womankind," etc. Cloth, i2mo. $1.25 net. With the publication of Daily Bread Mr. Gibson was hailed as a new poet of the people. Fires, his later volume, confirmed the im pression that here was a man whose writing was close to real life, a man in whom were combined a sympathy and apprecia tion of humankind with a rare lyrical genius. This present book continues the work which Mr. Gibson can do so well. In it are brought together three plays and a number of short lyrics which reveal again his very decided talent. It is a collection which should indeed gratify those students of modern verse who are looking to such men as Gibson and Masefeld for permanent and representative contributions to literature. PUBLISHED BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York NEW POEMS AND PLAYS Romance By EDWARD SHELDON, Author of "The Nigger/ etc. Decorated cloth, i2mo. Mr. Sheldon can be relied upon to provide drama that is not only good from a technical standpoint, but unusual in subject matter. The Nigger, which proved to be one of the sensations of the New Theatre s short career, is now followed by Romance, a play more admirable, perhaps, in its construction, and of universal appeal. As a book the story seems to have lost none of its brilliance; in fact the sharpness of its character delineation, the intensity and reality of its plot and the lyrical beauty of some of its pass ages are, if possible more apparent on the printed page than in the theatre. There is little doubt but that the tremendous success which the drama made when footlighted is to be dupli cated upon its appearance in this form. Poems By HARRIET MONROE. Cloth, i2mo. $1.25 net. In this book is brought together some of Miss Monroe s best work. As the editor of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, wherein occasion ally compositions of her own have appeared, and as a contributor to the better magazines, Miss Monroe has endeared herself to a large audience of discriminating people. A distinguishing feature of the collection is that it is notably representative of current ideas and sentiments, and pleasingly varied in theme. The author s subjects are chosen from the Panama Canal, the Titanic disaster, the turbine, the telephone, State Street, Chica go, and other modern phases or factors of life. There is also a group of love poems. PUBLISHED BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York NEW POEMS AND PLAYS The Melting Pot By ISRAEL ZANGWILL. Revised edition. Cloth, i2mo. This is a revised edition of what is perhaps Mr. Zangwill s most popular play. Numerous changes have been made in the text, which has been considerably lengthened thereby. The appeal of the drama to the readers of this country is particularly strong, in that it deals with that great social process by which all na tionalities are blended together for the making of the real American. Sword Blades and Poppy Seed By AMY LOWELL, Author of "A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass." Boards, i2mo. $1.25 net. Of the poets who to-day are doing the interesting and original work, there is no more striking and unique figure than Amy Lowell. The foremost American member of the "Imagists" a group of poets that includes William Butler Yeats, Ezra Pound, Ford Madox Hueffer she has won wide recognition for her writing in new and free forms of poetical expression. Miss Lowell s present volume of poems, "Sword Blades and Poppy Seed", is ar. \tnusual book. It contains much perhaps that will arouse criticism, but it is a new note in American poetry. Miss Lowell has broken away from academic traditions and written, out of her own time, real singing poetry, free, full of new effects and subtleties. PUBLISHED BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York UJ* IVEE8ITY OF CALIFO 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. . .* AP *i mi - - > ! it 1 " ^^* ^^vv*- 22D0c JlfO * REC D LD w nrj 9 6^ -fi pi U v i NUV ^w I960 17Nlay 6lLU -n r- -- ^^ Vt^ "^ ZOte-gpjf ^ ...^L ; ^l ; . . - ^ . *> - - - : .:-- * tS:^ -^ J General Library 3, -32 IW. *<* r 331019 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY